


Take These Broken Wings

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Also contains some implied non-graphic non-con, Dark Implications, Gen, It was written before then so that'd be hard, Keith (Voltron)-centric, Mind Control, No one is dealing with Shiro's loss well, None of that happens but someone is willing to create the situation, Not Season/Series 03 Compliant, Post-Season/Series 02, Shiro (Voltron)-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 11:04:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11781846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: When Shiro disappears, the Black Lion goes dead, the team struggles under the new understanding of what it means to fight a war, and changes in leadership.  Stepping into the position is difficult, and Keith doesn't know the right answers.But then they hear a radio transmission about the return of the Champion.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A huge huge huge thank you to Xagrok for betaing, and to [Beebshee](http://beebshee.tumblr.com/) for the fantastic art.
> 
> Let's get this party started.
> 
> I'm going to be throwing this all up at once b/c I've got enough other stuff going on to post so meh.

(Art by [Beebshee](http://beebshee.tumblr.com/post/164092078459/for-the-voltronbang-i-was-partnered-with))

The little shop was tiny and dusty, so much so that Keith had to hold his breath to keep from coughing.  Hunk had no such luck, taking in a deep breath only to immediately choke on it.  

Absently, Keith reached over to pat Hunk on the back to try and clear his airways.  He smacked his palm down, and Hunk jolted forward, shooting him a glare for his trouble, and continued to try and breathe

Too hard.  Whoops.

Pulling his hand back, Keith stepped away to let Hunk recover.  Instead, he busied himself at the shelves, trying to pull out the supplies they needed.  This wasn’t supposed to be much of a food run, though they’d all been known to come back with a bag or two anyway.  Shiro always gave Hunk an extra half an hour to run around whatever market there was, just in case something stood out that he thought he could use.

Keith didn’t really want to stay on this gross dustbowl of a planet any longer than he had to.  Already, this ‘mission’ was feeling like a failure.  Even when they managed, Keith didn’t feel like they’d done it right.  Everyone always ended the day grumpier than when they’d started it, palpably missing the sudden hole in their usual system, and nothing Keith did seemed to fix that.

But he wanted to do better.  Keith didn’t want to do a shitty job with the one thing Shiro asked of him.  Shiro wasn’t dead - none of them wanted to believe that, even if it was constant looming thought.  But even so, Shiro asked for so little of Keith.

It figured that the time he pushed, it was for _this._

So Keith wanted to offer extra time for Hunk, too.  Even if it meant breathing in another lungful of dirt, he wanted to make those good calls.

He just had no idea how to say it.  Did he just go up to Hunk and tell him it was fine?  Did he assume Hunk knew that already and they’d just do it?  It wasn’t like any of them really needed the permission.

Lance and Pidge certainly didn’t.  They ran off doing whatever they’d usually do.  Hell, Keith expected them to, without stopping to explain what felt obvious but that seemed to annoy them too.

Keith wasn’t Shiro.  He didn’t have _words_ for this.  Everyone should just do the things they were good at and he’d figure out the rest, like Shiro did without needing to suggest it.

Lost in thought, Keith vaguely heard Hunk get control of his lungs and the door open again, chiming as a someone else stepped in.  It wasn’t until Keith’s hip hit the edge of something metal and hard that he was brought back to reality.

Rubbing his hip, Keith frowned at the offending equipment.  It was a bulky thing, rusted and heavy looking, and when Keith paused, he could hear a faint noise coming from it.  After a moment of listening, it didn’t sound like mechanical whirring.  It sounded like voices.  Quiet, but one word in a handful was intelligible.  

_‘Fight.... Then.... tomorrow.... Champion....’_

Keith’s heart froze.

Champion?

Before he thought the move through, Keith found a knob and turned it.

_‘-can we expect from the Champion’s match tomorrow?’_

_‘Who knows?  The favors on those battles are already legendary.  The Ring is already known for the amazing variety of options it offers, and our sources say we’ve only scratched the surface.  Your imagination is the limit!’_

_‘C’mon, you have to have some guesses.’_

_‘One.  It’ll be a brutal match.  They always are, for the Champion.’_

“For the _what?”_

Lance’s voice made Keith jump.  He whirled around, eyes wide, to see Lance staring at the space radio in open disgust.  His eyes snapped to Keith, already brustling.  And despite knowing that this time the anger wasn’t directed at him - probably - Keith still tensed.  He was too used to Lance turning everything into a fight to do anything else.

“You heard what I heard,” Keith replied instead, as the radio switched over to commercials Apparently, the best _darjanian_ _blasts_ could be found in the delta system, just look for the red planet closest to the suns.

Keith’s tone seemed to just rile Lance more.  But before could speak, the shopkeeper spoke up.  “You a fan?” They asked casually, resting one scaly, three-fingered hand on the cabinet.  “It’s been all anyone can talk about.”

“We’ve been travelling recently, actually.” Pidge spoke up, leaning against the cabinet.  She must have come in with Lance.  Her posture was supposed to be casual, but her gaze was far too direct to be anything but aggressive.  “Haven’t heard about it.  What’s up?”

The shopkeeper leaned forward, all four black bug-like eyes bright.  “You know about The Ring?”  At their blank looks, the shopkeeper buzzed.  “You’ve been out of it for a while, then.  The Ring used to be a Galra military stronghold.  Technically still is, in the barest terms.  But once the empire started to...”  They trailed off carefully.  “Started to have some minor hiccups, the commander went totally rogue.  You know, like they do.”

Oh, they did.  All four of them had seen plenty of commanders start to claim their own territory after Zarkon’s fall.  They’d even put down several of them.

Not as many as they’d fought, though.

“Sure,” Hunk replied, head bobbing way too fast to be casual.  “Right.  So what?”

“Well, this guy didn’t just declare independence.  He wasn’t going for more territory, not really.  Instead he built up the planet he still had control over.  Renamed it The Ring, built this huge, state of the art arena, set up all these hotels and restaurants and gambling houses.  Stuff like that.  Then the guy, Renus, he starts hosting these huge arena battles.”  

Keith’s stomach twisted, and his hand rested over his bayard.  It was sheer force of will that kept it from switching to a sword.  

Glancing back over at him, Pidge gave him a wide-eyed warning look.  ‘Don’t screw this up.’  Seeing it, Lance elbowed him, glaring as well.

Returning glare, Keith dragged his hand away.  “Interesting,” he managed.

“I thought the Champion was retired,” Hunk asked, still not really managing to sound sincere.  There was too much of a wobble to his voice.

But the shopkeeper apparently didn’t care.  If anything, they looked excited to talk about the battles.  “So did I!  So did everyone.  Gone for nearly 5 pheobs, finally comes back, and then disappears again!  I heard people saying he’d been killed off stage and they didn’t want anyone to know because they were still selling merch.  Apparently not.  Just a couple of weeks ago, The Ring started advertising about it.  Come see The Return of the Champion!  Huge deal, it had everyone talking.  They still are.  I haven’t seen any of the footage yet - I’m saving up, but it’s rich stuff, you know?  But the transmissions alone.  They’re brutal.  The Champion was never this brutal on the ships.  The Ring must be doing him good.”

Keith’s hand crept back up to the bayard, and he felt himself start to actually shake.

How fucking dare that asshole commander throw around that title like this?  How dare they make money off exploiting Shiro’s captivity?  How dare this scaley bug jackass get such a kick out of it?

“Sounds fun,” Lance replied airily.  “I love a good brawl.  They sell seats at this place?”

The shopkeeper snorted.  “Oh, yeah.  It’ll cost you an antenna or two, but I guess you all don’t need them.”  They looked the group over, then shrugged and reached down for a transparent disk.  “Here, let me show you.  Anyone have a pad?  And lemme tell you, the Champion’s match yesterday?  Amazing.”

Pidge gave another of those fanged smiles.  “Really?  I’d love to hear about it.”

***

They kept quiet the whole walk back to the castle, both from a desire to avoid unnecessary attention and because of the earlier fight.

Keith’s mind whirled as he thought over what they’d learned.

The Champion.  More brutal than ever, fighting for glory and bloodshed at The Ring.

It didn’t sound like Shiro at all.  And how would Shiro have even ended up at such a place?  He’d disappeared from inside the Black Lion after the battle with Zarkon, and it had been weeks since.  If he was in a place like The Ring, would he have been able to get off some sort of sign that he was there?  Would he agree to fight at all?

Maybe not.  Maybe he would.  Keith couldn’t know for certain.  

What he did know was that Shiro would never act like how the Shopkeeper had explained.

They’d waxed poetic about rended limbs and disemboweled opponents, how the crackle of energy was palpable as the Champion took down enemy after enemy with silent, vicious grace.

Shiro was an amazing fighter.  Keith knew that from the Garrison and from after, when Shiro had a year to unwillingly hone his style.  

But he wasn’t vicious.  He wasn’t cold and bloodthirsty.  Keith had never seen him come close, even when he was furious and raging, like when any of them got hurt.

Which lead to one conclusion.

“That’s not Shiro,” Keith said, as soon as they stepped into the castle.  “It’s someone using his name.”

“No shit,” Pidge replied.  “No way Shiro would go through that again.  Honestly?  He’d get himself killed resisting.”

Keith winced but didn’t argue.  Shiro probably would.  It couldn’t have been him, because while Keith would have begged Shiro to cooperate and keep himself alive, he likely wouldn’t.

“Alright, so I’ll take this to Allura,” Lance replied.  He waved his pad at them.  “And we go in there and make them stop using his title like that.  Maybe do some damage to the place while they’re at all.  They definitely deserve it.”

Good.

Except wait.

Wait.

Keith wanted to go after these guys too.  His arms ached with the desire to swing at whoever had decided to drag Shiro’s name through the mud like this.

But was that what they should be focusing on?  The Ring was an abomination, and Keith would happily blast it off the map.  The arenas were disgusting, from conception to practice, but they weren’t raising armies to march on other worlds or starting wars that killed millions and billions.

As much as Keith hated everything The Ring stood for, he had to think like a leader, and not like someone who was so angry they could vibrate apart with the force of it.

“Wait,” Keith called, straightening up.  “Let’s talk this through.”

All three of them stared at Keith like he’d grown a second head.

“What’s there to talk about?” Pidge asked, eyes narrowed.  “We’re going to go there and destroy that awful place.”

Keith took a deep breath, schooling his expression into the calm expression Shiro had managed to maintain.  Or at least an attempt at it.  It felt wrong on him, like a mask that was too big for his face shape.  “Is that the best use of our resources?  There’s only four of us and the castle, and there are other places we can be useful.”

There was a moment of dead silence.

“ _Now_ you don’t want to run in head first?  Okay.  Sure,” Lance replied, so cheerful that Keith took a wary step back.  “You can take your lion - whichever, I don’t care - and fly off and fight whatever Galra you’re thinking about.   _We’re_ going to defend Shiro’s memory.”

Keith winced, his hands clenching at his sides.  “I’m just saying that we have to think bigger-”

Scoffing, Pidge looked him over critically.  “Why?  They don’t get to use Shiro’s name like that.  They _don’t._  I don’t care what else is going on in the world.  I’ll fly there myself and rip the place apart if you’re not going to help, but you can’t stop me.”

“I’m not-” Keith winced.  “That’s not what...”  

What was he supposed to say here?

“Don’t you care?” Pidge demanded, taking a step forward.  Keith mirrored it back, trying not to bristle so much.  All of them were angry, and Keith never wanted to strike at one of his teammates.  But he didn’t take well to people getting aggressively in his face.  “Shiro would hate this!  You know he would!  So why should we let them get away with this?”

Keith tensed hard, breath coming too fast and heavy.  “Shiro’s _not here!”_

The words hung heavily in the air, the possibility that none of them wanted to think about.

Shiro would hate it.  But they couldn’t ask Shiro what he wanted to do about it.  And they didn’t have the time or the resources for this, not really.  Not with so many people dying.  

New distress messages popped up every day as the Galra fractured in on themselves.  There were worlds without trade now, starving without proper resources.  Planets that had normally only nominally been in Galra territory were now under attack as the commanders all tried their hands at growing personal armies and territory.  Meanwhile, the Empire itself came down hard at anyone and everyone they could get their hands on, desperate for a show of force that would convince the fractured pieces that Prince Lotor was just as worthy of their loyalty as Zarkon had been.

That was what happened when you built your empire around one person.

Keith was starting to feel like they’d done the same thing.  They cared about each other, and they were still a team, but there was an aching void there.  It was like suddenly losing gravity.  They could readjust, but it was a painful process.

And Shiro wasn’t just some force.  He was their friend.  They didn’t _want_ to readjust to his absence.  It felt like giving up on him.

“Shiro’s not here,” Keith repeated.  “So we have to make our own calls.”

Lance scowled.  “And we’re supposed to listen to _yours?”_  The venom in the word was painfull obvious, and Keith tensed against it.  “This isn’t a game.  This is serious.  It’s life or death.  Shiro’s gone, and we still don’t know what happened to him.  And while you’re playacting at being a leader, we’re all putting our lives on the line.  I don’t _care_ if Shiro told you that you’re next in line.  The lion doesn’t accept you, and you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Worst thing was, Keith didn’t disagree.  Whatever it was that Shiro saw in him, Keith didn’t know what it was supposed to be. It had gone okay with Hunk in the Weblum, when he’d tried to step up.  But Keith didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing or saying here.  And there wasn’t time for him to learn.  He’d thought he’d had time to learn, but then suddenly he was supposed to be the Black Paladin.

Lance was right.  Keith was playacting at being a leader.  He was living off a mantra of ‘what would Shiro do?’ and guessing wrong every time.

But what else was he supposed to do?

Crossing her arms, Pidge looked down at her feet.  “Shiro’s the leader.” She spat, voice heavy with dark emotions.  “The Black Lion won’t respond to anything, not even Princess Allura.  So he’s not dead.  We’re not replacing him.”

“Guys,” Hunk spoke up, so quiet that at first Keith wasn’t sure he’d heard it.  “Maybe we should all take a break and-”

Pidge scowled.  “No!  The next match is tomorrow, and this place isn’t close.  If we’re going to stop this, we have to get going soon.  I’m going to talk to Allura.”

With that she left, head set low and shoulders high, just like when she’d been determined to leave to find her family.

Keith really hoped that wasn’t what Pidge was thinking about now.  Last time she’d tried, it hadn’t gone so well.

Swallowing hard, Lance looked Keith over, and Keith got the distinct feeling he found him lacking.  “We’ll do this with our without you.  I thought you cared enough about Shiro to do this for him.”

“I do!” Keith let out, fists clenched.  “But it’s not about that.”

It felt the same as when the whole room had turned against him for saying they shouldn’t jump after Allura, when she’d been captured.  And, hell, Keith still didn’t think he’d been wrong.  They’d gotten really, really lucky.  If the Blade of Mamora hadn’t turned off the shield at the end of the fight, it would have been over then, and Zarkon would have Voltron.

But it wasn’t the answer that felt right.  It was a cold, big picture sort of idea.  It wasn’t how anyone wanted him to lead.

“Yes, it is,” Lance shot back, voice dark.  “This is the right thing to do.”

It was what Keith wanted to do.

But was it the right call?

Keith didn’t respond, and Lance shook his head hard.  Then he stepped out as well.

Closing his eyes, Keith took a slow breath.

How had Shiro stepped into this role?  Was he just better at it?   Had he taken some class or talked to someone that showed him how to be a leader?  Had he just been better at faking it, and they hadn’t all been fighting him at every turn?

“You okay?”

Jumping, Keith picked his head up to frown at Hunk.  “What?”

Hunk shrugged.  “Are you alright?”  When Keith didn’t say anything, Hunk sighed and looked away.  “Look, they don’t mean it.”

“Yes, they do.”  That wasn’t up for debate.  Lance and Pidge had both been honestly upset with him, and they’d meant every word they said.

There was a pause.  “Alright, they meant the ideas, maybe.  Not the specific words and tone.”  Hunk sighed.  “We know you’re trying, okay?  And we know it’s not easy for you.  It’s just hard.  For all of us.  You too.”

Yeah. It was.

Galaxies away from home, they’d made a family.  The first one Keith felt secure with for a long time.

Then, in the moment that should have been their victory, it was was cracked open.  There wasn’t even the certainty of a body.  Just... questions.

“And I’m not doing good enough, right?” Keith asked.  “The Black Lion won’t talk to me.”

“The Black Lion won’t talk to anyone,” Hunk shot back.  “I think Black is upset too, honestly.  Or something.”  He paused, pulling off his headband to run a hand through his bangs.   “You’re doing your best.  And you need an adjustment period.  Lance and Pidge aren’t interested in listening to that.  You’re not doing a bad job.  We’re all here and okay, and we’ve managed to take out some Galra commanders.  It’s just not where any of us thought we’d be.”

Keith nodded slowly.  “And Lance doesn’t think okay is good enough.”

Hunk winced.  “Yeah.  Honestly, I think Lance would have nothing but problems with Shiro in the mood he’s in, too.  We already lost everything we have on Earth, and now Shiro.  None of us can afford to lose anyone else.  It’s... It was always real.  But now it’s _really_ real.  So there’s more pressure.”  

Meaning Keith had to be better.

Scrubbing his hands over his face, Keith nodded.  “I get it.”  Then he looked up, frowning.  “What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” Hunk replied honestly, shrugging.  “Neither do Pidge or Lance.  Or Allura and Coran, either.  None of us know what to do now, except to keep trying.  All I’m saying is... try not to take it too much to heart, okay?  We’re all getting used to the idea.”

Keith took a deep breath and glanced back toward the Black Lion’s hangar.  “Thanks,” he finally replied.  “I’m surprised you’re... I figured you’d be with Lance on this.”

Looking uncomfortable, Hunk shrugged.  “I am.  I just don’t think that means I’m against you.  We’re a team.”

It hadn’t felt like it for a long time.  But Keith nodded and managed a small smile.  

Then there was an awkward silence after, like both of them were waiting for the other to say something.  But Keith didn’t know what else to say, and Hunk didn’t seem to either.

They were waiting for someone who usually provided the words.  That wasn’t either of them.

Finally, Keith turned. “I’ll see you later.  We should talk about what we’re going to do at The Ring.”

“Okay, I’ll tell the other two,” Hunk replied, and they turned in opposite directions down the hall.

There was someone else Keith needed to talk to.


	2. Chapter 2

The Black Lion loomed huge and quiet over Keith.  There was no shield, but Keith didn’t think he’d ever seen the Black Lion’s activated, in hindsight.  Presumably it had one, but there wasn’t much need for it, locked up in a hangar in the castle.

When Keith stepped up to it, the eyes stayed stubbornly dark.

“This would be much easier if you would help, you know,” Keith commented.  He stared up, but there was no responding presence, no sense of something there.

That wasn’t too worrying.  The Red Lion had felt that way too, before Keith had proven himself.

He hadn’t done that, here.  At least, Keith didn’t think so.  And the Black Lion didn’t give any indication of disagreeing.

“Why should you, right?”  Keith sighed and sat down, palms braced on the metal floor below him.  Even after all these months, he still expected the metal floor to be cold, but it was the same temperature as everything else in the Castle of Lions.  “What have I done to be a leader?  I’ve gone around and given orders, but that’s not the same thing.  I know it isn’t.”

What had Shiro done?

By the time they’d gotten to the castle and recovered the Red Lion, Shiro had already lead a mission with them and made several command calls.  He’d decided they should stay - or at least, made them all listen to Allura about it - and been in charge of infiltrating Sendak’s ship.

Keith had led missions, at least nominally.  They’d continued to fight and respond to distress signals, just like they were supposed to.

What was the difference?

“The difference is that Shiro really was a leader.  I’m faking it.”

Keith was giving orders because that’s what he was supposed to do.  He was stepping up because Shiro had asked it of him, and Keith didn’t want to do it.

Keith wasn’t a leader, because he was still following Shiro’s orders, just long distance.

But Shiro listened to Allura’s orders.  And Allura was a leader too: she was who Keith would have picked after Shiro, if he’d thought about it.  But the Black Lion didn’t respond to her, either.

“Or Hunk’s right.  Maybe something’s wrong.” Tilting his head, Keith looked the Black Lion over.  They’d run all sorts of diagnostics and tests and found nothing.  The lion was still functioning like normal, just stubbornly silent.  “Before, when Shiro was in trouble, you let me help.  Why won’t you let me help now?”

No, seriously, why?  Keith had piloted the Black Lion. Just for a few minutes, long enough to chase off those beasts attacking Shiro, then to get him inside and to get to the Red Lion.  What was different?

Then, Shiro had been in danger, and had been right there.  Keith had been desperate, and he’d felt the Black Lion’s desperation in turn.

Now, he didn’t feel anything.

Did it have something to do with all those strange things Shiro had been talking about, about purple dimensions and fighting Zarkon?  

Or was there just no one to save this time?

How did the lions react when their paladin died?

Keith shot to his feet, shaking his head and pacing in place to work off the sudden energy.

That wasn’t acceptable.  Shiro wasn’t dead.  If he was dead, there’d just be a body, right?  Why would Shiro disappear if he wasn’t alive?  They didn’t know how or why, but it was so strange.

Unless he’d been vaporized by that last strike from Zar-

No.  That wasn’t true.  Keith shook his head, teeth grinding.  There was no way that Shiro was dead.  He never was.  Keith hadn’t believed it during the Kerberos mission, and he didn’t believe it now.  End of story.

Whirling, Keith turned to face the Black Lion again, hands clenched into tight fists.  “Open up!”  He called, with all the command he could force into his voice.

It didn’t sound like him.

It sounded like his mocking Shiro impression.   _‘Patience yields focus, Keith.  Stretch out with your feelings.’_

The Black Lion remained unmoving.

“Open up,” Keith tried again, still commanding, but not dropping his voice so low.  This time, it felt a little more like his own voice.  “Turn on and open up so we can form Voltron.  We can’t do that with you like this.”

Still no response.

Keith ran a hand through his hair, eyes slamming shut.  “Why?”  He demanded, near to stamping his feet.  “If you’d listen, maybe Lance and Pidge would too, and this wouldn’t feel like this.  Like everything is going wrong.”  Or at least it wouldn’t be a weapon they could use against him.

No response.

“Fine.” Keith replied, shaking his head.  “Don’t.  Sit there and be useless to everyone.  Zarkon’s gone and Shiro’s gone and apparently there’s no other black paladins.”  He took a deep breath.  “I don’t want to fly you.  I don’t.”

Keith really, really didn’t.  He liked flying with Red.  There was a temper and a drive there that matched Keith’s, and a protective influence he appreciated.  The Red Lion was a friend, one who might snap or push, who might have been difficult to work with at first, but one who had his back when he needed it.  One who would bring down the world to keep him safe.

There weren’t a lot of presences like that in Keith’s life.  He didn’t want to give that up.

But that wasn’t more important than Voltron.  Keith’s feelings didn’t rank above the universe.  He’d do what he had to.

For just a moment, Keith could have sworn he felt _something._  A gust like someone blowing against the back of his neck.

But it was hard to tell from what.  The Black Lion remained dark, the Red Lion didn’t announce their presence, and the castle could have just picked up the air conditioning, for all Keith knew.

Still, just in case, there was nothing wrong with reaching out.

“I miss him too,” Keith offered.  “We’ll find him and we’ll bring him back.”

There was no response at all, so Keith didn’t say anything as he left.

***

Allura didn’t look any happier about this plan that Keith had been, but she didn’t take much convincing to agree to go.

It was the other part of the plan that she objected to.

“You cannot just go and destroy an entire city like this,” Allura said, crossing her arms and straightening up.  “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

Pidge scowled right back, leaning forward aggressively.  “When do we ever know?  This guy’s a Galra commander, and he’s in charge of an arena, and they’re using Shiro’s identity to sell tickets to bloodsport.  That’s more than enough to go off of.”

Unmoved, Allura gave her a flat stare.  “And if those gladiators are unwilling but forced to fight, like Shiro?  Or what if it is him?  You would kill them all?”

Pidge opened her mouth to argue more, but nothing came out.  It didn’t stop the force of her glare though.

Now that the anger wasn’t pointed at him, Keith could see the desperation in it better.  This hurt.  It hurt all of them.  But it especially cut Pidge, who had already lost so much family.  In all they’d been through, Keith didn’t think he’d ever seen her so close to crying.

Or maybe he had.  During that first mission to get Red, when she’d admitted that Commander Holt was her father.  That had been pretty close to this.

“We can’t just let this go,” Lance shot back.  “We won’t.  There was to be consequences to this.  Shiro’s known as the Black Paladin too.  What does it look like when one of our own is being used to sell tickets to fights?”

That sort of logic should have appealed to Allura, but it was too blunt.  Too openly manipulative.  Instead, her expression hardened.  “How does it look for the Paladins of Voltron to fire on civilians simply watching one of the most popular sports in the universe?”  She asked, voice going cold.

“That’s sick,” Hunk muttered, scrubbing over his face.  “It really is.”

The enthusiasm for the ‘sport’ supported an entire planet.  Well, from the sounds of it.  Fancy hotels, top of the line restaurants, all kinds of gambling and other recreations...

All funded by the draw of blood sports.

Pidge shook her head stubbornly, and there was a hint of a tremble to her hands.  “It shouldn’t be,” she said, her voice forceful and raw.  “It shouldn’t exist.  It should all die.”

“But it does exist,” Allura replied.  Her gaze softened.  “None of us like it.  None of us should like it.  And I agree that we should check this out and do our best to end it.  But going in with the lions is not the answer.”

It was true, and it was something they all knew was the right thing.

It was just frustrating.  Keith would love to see the Ring collapse in on itself.  It was the revival of something so utterly disgusting, and worse, it was personal.  Not only did it represent what had hurt Shiro so badly, but it reminded them that Shiro wasn’t here to hate it.  So they had to hate it for him.

They needed to be able to do something about it.

So Keith took a deep breath and stepped forward.  “We don’t have to go in with weapons.  But we don’t have to do nothing.”  Glancing over, he shrugged.  “We should look in on this.  And while we’re there, there’s something we can leave behind in their system.  Nothing violent, nothing that could reflect back on us.  But if we happened to be there and the banking system just happened to go haywire during one of the Champion’s matches...”

There was a pause, and then Allura smiled.  For a moment, Keith could have sworn all her teeth came to sharpened points. “That is an excellent point.  And I promise that we’ll work toward ending this practice.  It cannot be allowed to remain.  But an invasion is not the way to solve it.  Something like this needs a cultural battle, not a physical one.”

Lance frowned at Keith, considering him.  “I thought you decided you didn’t care.”

“Lance,” Hunk sighed.  “You know that’s not true.”

There was a moment when Lance wavered, and Keith could see that he _wanted_ to stay mad.

Keith got that.  It was like with Allura when she’d found out he was half-Galra.  Sometimes being mad was the only way to function.

Keith wanted to be mad, too.  He wanted to charge in and fight everyone on that planet, wanted to yell at everyone in this room, wanted to hate the Black Lion.

Above all, Keith wanted to be mad at Shiro, for putting him in this stupid situation in the first place.

But he didn’t get to do that.  There was so much else Keith needed to focus on.  Now there was a weight on his shoulders that stood for the lives of the team, and the future of Voltron, and the fate of the universe.

If Keith was rash, or did something out of anger, the consequences of the universe were on him.

That had always been true, but not like this.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Keith met Lance’s gaze and focused on breathing.

After a long moment, Lance gave a jerky nod.  “Yeah,” he agreed, breaking eye contact first.

It wasn’t an apology.  But Keith wasn’t asking for one.  Just like he wasn’t looking to apologize for his stumbles with leadership.

Part of this adjustment period was going to be everyone acknowledging their screw ups and moving on.

“Pidge?” Keith asked, because she still hadn’t replied yet.  “How much damage do you think you can do?”

“Less than in the lion,” she replied, but her eyes started to brighten at the challenge.  Slowly, her lips curled up, and it was the closest Keith had seen to her smiling in a couple of weeks.  “But I can still do a lot.”

Hunk straightened, looking pleased with the both.  When he met Keith’s eyes, there was a hopeful glint in his eyes.  “Pidge and I can plan that out.  We’ll track what’s going on in their systems and see what we can get up to.”

Nodding, Keith managed a small smile back.  “Sounds good.”  Then he glanced at Lance, waiting.

Keith was done trying to order them around.  They’d come and meet him halfway or this wouldn’t work.

Without looking back over, Lance shrugged.  “I can go over the maps and get a better idea of how it’s laid out, and we can look into their scheduling.  That way we’ll know what we’re doing when we’re there, at least.  It’ll make it easier to look around and figure out what’s going on with this Champion nonsense.”

“Need a hand?” Keith offered.

Lance hesitated, and Keith realized belatedly he’d picked something he could do by himself, probably to process.

So before he could speak, Keith shook his head.  “Actually, I take it back.  I’m going to look into Renus.  He’s the one that started this all, so I want to know what his deal is.”  Glancing back over at Allura, Keith hesitated for just a moment.  “The Blade of Marmora might know something about him.”

Allura frowned but nodded.  “I don’t want to draw too much attention to them,” she replied, which was probably mostly true.  

“I’ll look through our databases first, then,” Keith agreed.  “But I don’t want to go in ignorant of what he’s like.  Just in case.  I still don’t plan on fighting, but if it comes to it...”

Pidge let out a slow breath, blowing her bangs out of her face.  “I have a new searching program.  I’ll send you that.”

“Thanks.”

There was a pause, like they were all waiting to be dismissed.

That was Keith’s job now, and he didn’t know what to say.  Something like ‘get to work’ wasn’t right, but it wasn’t like he could have everyone put their hands together and break apart like a sports team.

In the end, he just nodded. “We’ll meet up later.”  Then Keith made his escape.

Well, it had still gone well.  Mostly.

***

The Ring was a small planet, all things considered.  Flying over it, it was obvious that it had been built up in a relatively short period of time.  Most of the planet was still rough and dark, for the most part uninhabited, while the rest was bright with lights.  All of those were shiny and new-looking, looming tall and decked in flashing neon signs.

As they stepped into the main city, the Green Lion stashed and invisible in one of the uninhabited portions, Keith thought that this was the first place that felt like a city on Earth.  Plenty of cultures had tall, grouped buildings, but he didn’t think he’d see anywhere else as saturated with advertisements.

The comparison didn’t exactly make him feel comfortable about home.

This was a place of exploitation, from the thrills to the sports to the resorts.  It promised fun and relaxation, and drained anyone who took part, fighter or spectator.  It was a leech of a planet, feeding off blood and turning it into money.

Or maybe Keith was just biased.

“How close are we to the arena?” Keith asked, glancing around uncomfortably.

Lance paused, head tilted.  “Uh, we came in from the west?  A couple miles southeast of here.  But from what I can tell, there should be a ton of signs.  We won’t be getting lost.”

“Good,” Hunk replied, glancing down the road.  “This clearly wasn’t a planned city.  Looks like the roads go everywhere.  We’ll have to be careful not to get mixed up.”

Snorting, Lance elbowed him.  “You think that’s bad?  Try memorizing the maps.”

Lance’s tone was so _normal_ that Keith nearly jumped, glancing over at him. He hadn’t heard that since Shiro disappeared.  

Probably it was just that he was joking around with Hunk.  But the fact that he was doing it now felt like a step in the right direction.

Then again, Keith had assumed they were all still hanging out and joking, just not around him.  

Following Lance, they made their way down the streets.

It was quickly obvious that getting lost wasn’t going to be a problem.  There were signs _everywhere_ , flashing in a multitude of languages.  While Keith couldn’t read any of them, including the Galra, it was pretty clear what they were advertising.

This whole planet’s economy was built on arena fights, after all.

“That way, you think?” Pidge asked, voice dry.

“I dunno,” Hunk replied, turning down the next street.  “All these signs might be to the bathroom.  Actually, let’s go that way, I need to-”  He cut off suddenly, expression going slack.

Keith’s heart stopped, and he dashed after him, hand reaching down to pulling out his bayard.

Then he froze too.

Staring down at them on a huge, digital display like a billboard, was Shiro.

(Art by [Beebshee](http://beebshee.tumblr.com/post/164092078459/for-the-voltronbang-i-was-partnered-with))

It wasn’t the Shiro they knew, not exactly.  His hair was completely white, for one, and Keith had never seen Shiro dressed like _that._  Not only was he wearing clearly fancy Galran clothing, there was some kind of jewelry around his head, silver with black stones.  He held himself with a predatory grace unsettlingly different his usual military stance.

That wasn’t the strangest part.

His expression was cool and distant, nearly blank, but there was a sharp edge to his eyes that said he was assessing someone just over their heads and preparing to take them down.  Slowly, the camera pulled back, revealing more blank space next to him as Shiro slipped into a fighting stance.

Words appeared in Galran next to him, bright and professional, probably advertising the next Champion fight.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” Pidge muttered, voice rough and small.  “They can fake images and video.  It could be pulled from one of his other matches from that year he was captured.  We heard that alien before.  It wasn’t Shiro.”

They all wanted to believe that.  They’d listened and brushed the thought off immediately.  Shiro didn’t fight the way the radio described.  Yes, he used the weapon on his hand, but anyone who was wearing some sort of glove could probably pull off a similar effect.

Each and every one of them had managed to avoid thinking _what if it is him?_

Because the alternative was the thought that Shiro was captive again, that he was being forced to fight, and that he was vicious about it in a way they’d never known him to be.

Was this how Shiro had been the first time around?  Or had something changed?

“Yeah,” Lance agreed, just as strangled.  “No reason to jump to conclusions, yet.  Look, they even got the details wrong.  Why’s his hair all white?”

Hunk cleared his throat.  “I mean, whatever they did to him the first time-”

“If there are druids here then Shiro wouldn’t be fighting for entertainment,” Keith interrupted.  “They’d have taken him to Haggar.  That can’t be it.”

“Do we know it was the druids?” Hunk pointed out.  “Guys, I don’t like this either, but-”

“No!” Pidge whirled on Hunk, hands fists at her side.  Her tone was downright venomous, and Hunk took a step back away from her, hands up.

Keith had thought only he was inspiring that tone in Pidge.

Maybe he’d underestimated her and Lance’s reactions after all.

“Pidge,” Keith murmured, holding up his hands too.  “We’re not deciding either way.  We still need to get to the arena.  We’ve got a job to do.”

The focus seemed to distract Pidge from her sudden temper.  Nodding, she glanced at Hunk again, the gaze not quite apology.  Then she started back off down the road, pointedly not looking at the billboard.  A moment later, Lance followed, and they stayed close to each other as they walked.

“You okay?” Keith asked softly.  He knew all too well what it was like to be on the wrong end of Lance and Pidge’s tempers, these days.

Hunk took a deep breath.  “Yeah.  I-  Well.  They’re hurting.  We’re all hurting, but-”

He didn’t need to finish.  Pidge and Lance both took family seriously, and they both considered Shiro part of that.  But so had Keith, and probably Hunk too.

“We all are,” Keith repeated softly.  “So are you okay?”

Hunk paused, glancing over at him.  Seemed like Keith had managed to surprise him, and maybe won something in the process.  What, Keith didn’t know.  “Yeah.  I’m alright.  They need an outlet, I think.  And I didn’t want to be that.”  He winced and glanced over.  “Sorry.”

Because Hunk hadn’t wanted to push his friends while they were hurting, he hadn’t stepped in when they lashed out, including at Keith.

Huh.  That wasn’t the motivation he’d ascribed to any of them.

Keith really did have a lot to learn.  But somehow, this one kind of felt better, even if it still sucked.

Rather than try to find the right Shiro-words for this, Keith patted Hunk on the shoulder.  “Let’s go keep an eye on them.”

Smiling back at him, Hunk nodded.  “Good plan.”

They walked away, and Keith’s eyes stayed on the repeating billboard image for as long as possible.

Now Keith understood how Shiro had felt when Ulaz had died, he thought.  That bitter moment of getting an answer, but it just causing a dozen more problems in its wake.

***

Pushing his way through the crowd, Keith stared down at the empty arena below.  The noise of the crowd was near deafening even before the match had begun.  The floating screens above flashed images and bright colors, probably advertisements for products or other matches, and there were plenty of beings holding onto lights or flags, most of them pure, simple black.

It was like any sporting match Keith had ever wound up.  Like this was something as innocent as a football game.

A hand grabbed onto Keith’s arm, and he glanced back to see Pidge frowning in frustration.  She’d probably been calling, and he hadn’t heard her over the noise of the crowd.  When he leaned forward, she cupped a hand over her mouth.  “I need to find a place to plug in!  I want their records.”  Then her eyes flashed.  “And I have a surprise for them.”

Satisfaction, dark and heavy, curled in Keith’s chest.  He was sure Pidge had built something nasty especially for this place, and he looked forward to hearing about it later.  Mostly, he was glad she’d _told him_ this time instead of running off.  “Okay.  Take Lance with you.”

Pidge’s expression twisted, probably not liking the implication she needed protection. But this time the objection was rational, so she gave a jerky nod and turned around to speak to Lance.  A second later his head popped up, and he gave Keith a narrow look for the order, but he didn’t object.

There was that, at least.  Seems like they could all agree to work together when it might involve Shiro.

Hunk’s hand rested on Keith’s arm, warm and steadying.  “We should take our seats,” he reminded.  “Before we stand out for getting in the way.”

Nodding his agreement, Keith pushed his way over, digging out his ticket stub to figure out where they were.  Pidge had gotten them front row seats without needing to pay a single cent, which Keith was viciously glad for.  They weren’t getting supported for this.

Almost as soon as they were settled, Hunk squeezed Keith’s arm again, making him meet his eyes.  Hunk didn’t say a word, but the question was clear.  ‘Are you okay?’

Keith’s chest clenched tightly.

Before he could figure out a response, the lights dimmed, and the crowd lost their mind.  An announcer started to talk, but Keith’s attention was totally focused on where two spotlights illuminated a single figure walking forward.

He was dressed differently, in a sleeveless black shirt and thick looking pants.  That metal headband from before, dark and jeweled, gleamed around his head.  It contrasted with hair that had gone all white.  The person’s expression was completely blank, giving no sign of interest to the upcoming fight.  But they were recognizably, purely _Shiro._

And he was about to fight a monster.


	3. Chapter 3

The announcer continued to scream, words coming so fast they blended together, and it was nearly completely drowned out by the manic cheers from the crowd.  The atmosphere of the room was electric, from the dark room only lit by spotlights to the thumping background music.

Keith wanted to scream and rage, but he knew his voice would have been lost instantly.

All these people were excited to watch Shiro kill or be killed.

What was  _ wrong _ with the universe?

Maybe the arena itself was soundproof in some way, or maybe Shiro was just blocking it out.  Either way, he seemed unbothered by the noise or the situation.

Instead his eyes were only for his opponent.

Huge, muscled, six-armed and with curled ram-like horns rising from their head and shoulders, the other fighter stared Shiro back down.  There was an arrogance and ease to their posture, and Keith suspected that they had volunteered for this.  If not, they were putting on a very good show of acting like someone who had something to prove.

The speakers blared with a new noise, a buzzing crack, and all the lights focused on the arena.

Shiro  _ moved. _

He darted forward with a speed Keith had never seen of him, in the Garrison or as a Paladin.  The opponent was surprised by it too, dodging quickly to the side and swiping with their glowing mace-like weapon. Shiro lifted his arm almost casually and it deflected off, then he swiped at the alien’s knee.

They dodged back out of the way, but all the head-strong posturing had left them.  Instead they narrowed their eyes and tensed, all six arms either gripping a weapon or clenched in readiness.

Next to him, Hunk pressed closer, his whole body vibrating with tension.  When Keith looked over, Hunk didn’t seem to know what to watch: the match or Keith.  When their eyes met, Hunk’s were filled with pained sympathy.

Neither of them wanted to be watching this.

Shiro turned to face the opponent again, but he didn’t dart straight toward them.  Instead he ran to the wall, running up onto it until he was nearly sideways for several strides.  He kicked off, kicking off against one of the stone pillars, and then struck down at the alien, arm lighting as he struck.

This time, the alien seemed more prepared for him, despite the circuitous method of attacking.  They lifted their mace just in time to crack into Shiro’s arm, trying to block it.

There was a flash and a crackle of power, and Keith figured whatever that mace was, it hadn’t been solid metal.  Probably something flashier, like that strange staff Myzax had sported.

When Keith could see again, the mace had a gouge through it, and Shiro was nowhere to be seen.

Hunk’s hand came down on Keith’s wrist, squeezing it hard.  Wincing, Keith looked over, but Hunk’s face had gone ashen and his eyes were huge with worry.

So he didn’t complain or try to move his wrist away.  If anything, he scooted closer to Hunk, sharing the burden of worry between them.

Where was Shiro?

The rest of the arena was asking the same question.  The opponent was spinning in nervous circles, two fists on their right side raised threatening as they shouted something.  Around them, the crowd went quiet, waiting for Shiro to reappear, then started to get rowdy when he didn’t.

“Do you think he escaped?” Hunk hissed to Keith, so close to his ear it made him jump.

Looking around, Keith shrugged.  “Maybe?  I don’t- no.  There.  On top of the pillar.”

On the very top, Shiro was crouched low, head just barely peeking over the edge.  At first, Keith had no idea how Shiro had managed to get up there - it was a solid two stories high - but then he noticed the gouges in the dark stone.

He’d made himself handholds with the metal arm.  And now he was waiting like a mountain lion in a tree.

The opponent continued to wander, tense and unhappy.  The longer Shiro stayed hidden, the more upset they seemed to get, and Keith could see their mouth open wide as they shouted and (probably) cursed.

Then they took one step too close to the pillar.

Shiro snapped up to his feet, toes just barely over the edge, then dropped.

The roar of the crowd alerted the alien, and they looked around desperately.  But they didn’t look up until it was too late.

But rather than kill right away, Shiro cut off the hand holding the broken mace-weapon.  It fell to the ground in a spray of grey ooze, and the opponent gripped the stub wrist close to their chest.  

Keith grabbed onto Hunk’s arm and squeezed in sympathy.  Hunk gagged hard, looking away, and Keith suddenly deeply regretted coming to watch the show.  They’d needed to understand and see for themselves. But not only would Shiro hate them seeing this, it was hurting them to watch.

Keith wondered how Lance and Pidge were doing.

Shiro hooked his natural arm around the opponent’s neck as he continued to fall, squeezing tight and crashing them to the ground with him.  He landed in a crouch, and the alien landed sprawled out, clawing at Shiro’s arm.

In a match of pure strength, the alien would have Shiro beat.  Already, they were getting their the three fingers on each hand between their neck and Shiro’s arm.

But he didn’t have to hold on for long.

Just for one moment.

Shiro reached back with his Galra arm.  It glowed brightly in the mostly dark arena.  Then he brought it down into the opponent’s eye, then  _ through. _

This time, Keith looked away, and he felt Hunk hide his face against his shoulder.

Around them, the crowd went  _ nuts. _

“The Champion does it again!  Still undefeated!”  The announcer called, even more excitable than the screams of the fans.  “Let’s hear it for him!”

The noise was absolutely deafening, and everyone around them stood up, some nearly jumping in place, as they screamed and hollered.  

Keith should have gotten up, too, and pretend enthusiasm. They all should have, Pidge and Lance as well.  The goal was to blend in.

But all Keith could do was watch Shiro’s bloodied form as he stood.  There wasn’t a scratch on him, except maybe his fingers from climbing the pillar.

He stepped over the body without looking back, and walked to the door he’d come in through.

There was no moment of regret, no pain for what he’d done, none of the wounds that Keith had seen when Shiro relived those moments later.

Was it that he couldn’t?  Had Shiro been trained not to rage and fight, so he was keeping it all inside?

Was he numb to it in the moment, only to feel the mental wounds later, when he was safer?

Had they done something to him?  Did Shiro not care anymore?

Keith’s stomach rolled, and he suddenly stood, dragging Hunk up with him.  “Shiro!”  He yelled, despite the fact that there was no way at all Shiro could have heard.   _ “Shiro!” _

At that moment, Shiro turned and looked around.

It wasn’t at Keith, not really, and he didn’t look like he’d heard.  Just like he’d noticed the crowd on a whim.

He looked at Keith, and for one second their eyes caught.

Then Shiro’s gaze moved on without a hint of recognition.

Collapsing back down to his knees, Keith stared in horror as Shiro was directed through the door, and it closed behind him.

_ What had they done to him? _

***

It took nearly half an hour for them to regroup outside the arena. The crowds pushed against Keith and Hunk, making it impossible for them to directly head to Pidge and Lance, at least not without making more of a fuss than they wanted to.

Well, more than they should.  Not wanted to.  Keith wanted to make a huge fuss, but a different kind.  He wanted to jump down the wall and into the arena and charge after, to go get Shiro and bring him back and leave this whole chapter of their lives behind him.  To make sure Shiro couldn't just leave again.

But that wasn't where Keith was needed.  Shiro had survived the past several weeks on his own, he'd be okay for another half an hour.  Right now, Keith was needed where Shiro had asked him to be.

Keith couldn't run off because he needed to stick with the team.  What he personally wanted mattered less than that.

It still left him irritable and quiet as he and Hunk slipped out of the arena and looked around for the other two.  Luckily, Hunk didn't seem to want words either.  They stayed nearly shoulder to shoulder, and neither made an attempt to break the silence.  

Pidge and Lance found them, in the end.

"What was that?" Pidge demanded, her voice rough and shaky.  "What did we just see?"

"I don't know," Keith replied.  "They have to have done something to him."

Giving him a flat look, Pidge looked like she was about to snap, then took a deep breath instead.  "Obviously.  They probably have something over his head.  But it was..."  She trailed off again, eyes distant.

"It wasn't like how Shiro normally fights," Lance offered.

Nodding, Hunk shoved his hands into his pockets.  "Well, maybe," he offered.  "We don't really know how Shiro fought then, do we?"

He wasn't wrong, but the thought still made Keith feel sick.  "No, we don't," he agreed.  "But whatever they did, we just have to fix it.  All we have to do is figure out how.  First, we need to talk to Allura."

There was a slight pause, and Lance frowned.  "You want to head back?"

Bristling, Keith met his eyes dead on, hands clenched by his side.  "Yes.  We need to be prepared and we're better off if Coran and Allura know about the situation and can help.  I don't want to leave him, but we have to."  It came out sharp and defensive, ready for more accusations about how Keith didn't care about Shiro because he wanted to look at the big picture.

To his surprise, Lance looked guilty.  "No, I thought- I was going to say that.  We can't just blow the place up anymore.  If they did something to get Shiro to fight then they might have done it to other people.  I thought you'd... You know.  Want to do something right now."

Keith took a deep breath and made himself relax his shoulders.  His hands stayed tightly clenched by his side.  "I do.  But I'm not going to.  We're not going to put Shiro at risk."

Pidge and Lance shared a quick look then, and Pidge nodded.  "Good.  Okay.  Well, the virus is in.  I think I can set off a virus to scramble their computers so they'll have to pause the fights for a while.  Do we want to go ahead and do that now while we're here?"

Keith stared at his feet for a while, then looked up when no one spoke.  To his surprise, Pidge was looking at him, jaw squared.

Waiting for his call.

Huh.

"If you do it now, will it make it harder for you to get into the systems later?" Keith asked.

Pidge considered.  "Maybe.  Not too hard, I don't think, but if they can patch against me, I'll have to remake my backdoor, and they'll probably clean out what I put in now."

"Then wait for a little while.  We might need that later.  If we don't need it for getting Shiro out, go ahead and start it up, but I don't want to make it harder on ourselves when it counts.  We'll burn it down eventually."

Hunk's lips quirked up, though his face was still grey.  "Patience yields focus?"

The exact words hadn't been what Keith was thinking, but it was the core of it, so he nodded.  "Yeah.  And I just don't like making the job harder for ourselves.  We've gotten prisoners free before, but not like this."

"Alright," Pidge agreed, though there definitely was a note of disappointment to her voice.  But there was no fight, and Keith’s shoulders relaxed further.  "Let's head back.  If we leave the virus in there too long for too long, then someone might notice and get rid of it.  I doubt it, but there's always a chance."

"And no one wants to leave Shiro for longer than we have to," Hunk agreed.

Nodding, Keith waited for the others to start walking, then glanced back over his shoulder at the entrance.

Where was Shiro right now?  Was he still in there, locked in a cell?  Was he somewhere else in the city?  Was he hurt?

Why hadn't he recognized Keith?

There were half a dozen reasons.  He probably hadn't actually been able to see Keith.  He had no reason to think they were there.  The lights had been too blinding to make out more than a figure.  They'd given him some kind of drug that confused him.

It still felt like a metal weight in his stomach.

Shaking his head, Keith turned and followed the others.

Now wasn't the time.  Now was the time to plan.  They could deal with the rest later.

Keith would tell them later.  Right now, he wanted to think on it and deal.

They had more important things to talk about.

***

Allura's gaze was dark and heavy as she listened to their explanation.  "You're sure it was Shiro?  You said the appearance was wrong?"

"Just the color of his hair," Pidge replied.  "Otherwise?  It was definitely him.  He fought differently, but not really differently."  

Frowning, Allura's eyes narrowed.  "What?"

Keith sighed.  "He fought the way Shiro likes to.  Using his environment, running along walls, surprising the enemy.  And it was definitely his arm.  He just usually isn't that vicious."

"Ah."  Allura looked discomforted by that.  Well, at least she hadn't seen it for herself.  "Well, then we certainly need to get him out as quickly as possible."

"Can we just jump in during a fight?" Lance asked.  "Have one of the lions break in and scoop him up?"

Hunk made a face.  "That's a little... dangerous.  It's one thing when the lions scoop us out of open space while we have our armor on.  Shiro wasn't even wearing sleeves, and a lion bursting in is going to, you know, not be very good for the building."

"I don't think it's a good idea to try and break in during a match.  It'll be too hard to get to him.  All those people watching and guards will make it too difficult.  We might get to him, but I don't know if we could get him back out." Pidge added.

"So we need to get to him between battles," Hunk said.  "What if one of us pretended to be a fighter?  We could go into the back areas of the Arena and try and find him.  Maybe we could even talk to him."

Keith's stomach churned as he remembered Shiro's blank look.  "I don't know if that's a good idea."

"We have no idea where he is in there, or if he stays in the arena at all outside of fights," Pidge agreed.  "I doubt they advertise where the challengers sleep, either.  The best thing we can do is to get Shiro to come somewhere we're ready.  Lay a trap for whoever's with him and then get him out.  The arena is a bad call all around.  It's going to be heavily guarded and prepared for combat."

Keith frowned.  "How do we do that if we can't contact him?"

Hunk's eyes lit up.  "We contact someone who does, right?"

"Exactly," Pidge replied.  "This is all about making money.  They're making Shiro a celebrity.  I bet they do, like, private showings or something.  And we can fake having as much money as we want.  Actually, with the doors I have into their system, I can pay them with their own GAC."

Lance considered, eyes narrowed.  "They're not going to listen to us.  We don't exactly scream money.  Well, except you, Allura."

Allura's brows rose, but she set her shoulders.  "I would need a different identity, of course, but I could pretend to be... I suppose some kind of socialite."

“If we’re going to pretend to have a private fight, we need someone else there.  And they’re going to provide security.  We can’t wave that off, and we don’t know what Shiro’s going to do when he sees us.  Whatever’s up with him, we can’t guarantee he’ll cooperate.”  Keith crossed his eyes and sighed.  “Paying to bring him to us is a good idea, but I don’t know about staging an entire arena fight.  We don’t have anywhere to do it.”

Considering him, Pidge pushed up her glasses.  “You think Shiro would fight us?”

Keith shrugged and looked away.  “I’m saying we can’t know.”

“That’s...”  Hunk’s lips thinned and his gaze went distant, probably thinking back to the fight they’d just witnessed.  “That would be bad.” 

All four of them fell silent, and Keith’s stomach twisted.  Shiro would hate this.  He’d hate the fact that they now had to consider how  _ deadly _ he was.

But if it saved Shiro, Keith didn’t particularly care.  What mattered more was getting him home.

“Okay,” Lance said, tone slow and careful.  “Other ideas.  We could... No one get mad at me for this one, okay?”

Allura’s brows jumped up.  “What kind of idea could we get mad over?”

“Well...”  Lance winced.  “You could pretend to be less interested in Shiro’s fighting and more interested in, you know, Shiro himself.  Celebrities do, like, meeting with fans, right?  Fans who might want a private moment to, you know, try and show them how datable they are.  If we could get even just half an hour alone with him, I’m sure Hunk and Pidge can come up with something that’ll jam anything around that could listen in, and you could talk to him freely.”

Allura’s lips thinned.  “It’s not so different from the original plan,” she admitted.  “Though playing at romance with someone we’re supposed to think is a killer is... distasteful.”  Then she sighed and drew herself up.  “But I can do it.”

“I can jam the systems when you’re with Shiro, and we can have Green cloaked and waiting,” Pidge offered.  “Wherever we get him, I can probably get to you quick, and we can get him out of there.”

Keith glanced around, and saw Hunk nodding thoughtfully. And it was a better plan.  There were less moving parts, no need of any kind of fighting space or logistical problems.  

Except for one problem.

“Shiro didn’t recognize me.”

Pausing, Pidge looked over.  “What?”

Ah, man, there was a better way of wording it, but Keith still didn’t know how to be  _ persuasive _ in the way that made people understand him.  “At the arena.  He met my eyes.  I think it was on accident, but we were close to the fighting area and- he met my eyes.  And he didn’t know me at all.  It was like he saw a stranger.”

Silence fell.

“Are you sure he saw you?” Hunk asked carefully.  “I mean, there were a lot of bright lights and a ton of people around.”

It wasn’t anything Keith hadn’t said to himself, but he still winced.  “It felt like he did.  He focused on me, just for a second, when he was looking around.”

The silence stretched on, and Keith steeled himself, waiting to be told he’d seen wrong or was being ridiculous.

“You know,” Lance said, voice quiet.  “We all started this off asking what they did to Shiro.  I kind of assumed it was, like, threats or forcing him at gunpoint.  But what if they actually  _ did _ something to Shiro?”

Pidge took a deep breath.  “I have a question, actually.  Why is an arena fighter wearing delicate jewelry around his head?”

Slowly, Keith looked up and glanced between them.  “You don’t think...?”

Meeting his eyes, Lance sighed.  “It sounds weird.  I’ll admit that.  But Shiro’s had memory problems before, right? And we don’t know how. It’s possible someone could do it again, especially with similar technology to what the Galra had during that year.  So if they had Shiro who doesn’t remember anything but has those skills...”

“Then he’d fight like himself but not like himself,” Hunk finished, eyes closing.  “Oh, man.  That-”  He took a deep breath.  “We don’t know it’s true, but there’s no harm planning in case, right?  Better than being caught off guard.  How do we get a Shiro who doesn’t know anything but the arena to come with us?”

Allura looked grim, but she raised her head regally.  “I’ve overpowered Shiro before.  I can do it again.  And I have more tools this time.”  She looked down at her hands, then clenched him.  “If it comes to that.”

That would be a brutal fight.  Shiro wouldn’t go down easily, and Allura would have to  _ make _ him stay down.  

But it could work.

And part of Keith held out hope that if he could just  _ talk _ to Shiro he could make it okay.  Keith recognized that was ridiculous, even childish, but he wanted to reach out and pull Shiro into a hug like they’d shared right before the last fight had gone down.  He wanted Shiro to know him, to apologize for being gone, and to make everything go back to normal.

...Yeah, definitely childish.

“If we’re going to pass you off as a fan, you have to know a lot about his recent fights,” Keith pointed out, shoving his hands in his pockets and refocusing.  Those thoughts were useless.  Right now, they had better things to focus on.

Allura made a face.  “I suppose you’re right.  Alright.  Getting the transmission of the last several fights shouldn’t be difficult.  Likely they sell them here.”

“I’d be surprised if they don’t,” Pidge muttered, voice dripping with venom.  “C’mon, I’ll pirate them for us.”

“Pirate?” Allura repeated, brow furrowed, but she wandered out after Pidge.

Hunk sighed. “I’ll get started on the jammer.  Anything else we’ll need?”

Anything else Keith could think of, they already had on hand and could just grab.  Glancing over at Lance, he tilted his head.

Lance paused, looking surprised at the focus, then shook his head.  “Not yet.  Thanks, Hunk.”

“Of course,” Hunk replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  He waved as he stepped out, already muttering to himself about parts he’d need.

That left Keith and Lance without much to do, which- well, it happened.  They didn’t have as many skills that were useful outside of battle.  Keith tried to think of something to say that Lance that wasn’t awkward or useless, and in the end he shrugged.  “I’ll see you later.”  He turned and made his way to the door.

“Are you going to the Black Lion?”

Keith froze.

Turning, he looked back, shoulders tense.  “What?”

Lance hesitated, then shrugged.  “I saw you do that.  Sometimes.  I didn’t listen or anything.  Still not answering?”

“Why?” Keith asked, just barely managing to keep his tone from sounding accusatory.  He hadn’t wanted to have this stupid conversation, but apparently, he was going to have to.  Lance was going to say that it was proof that Keith was a shitty leader and Shiro shouldn’t have made him do this, and Keith had no way of defending himself against that.  Clearly, he’d been rejected.  Maybe he’d managed once when Shiro was in danger, but not now.  Not even a flicker.

Lance winced and looked away.  “I was just asking,” he shot back.  “It’s not- I was thinking it might be ‘cause Shiro’s in trouble  The Black Lion can probably tell, right?  It might have been a way to let us know.”

It was such a different response than he’d thought that Keith could only stare. “What?”

“Can you say anything but one word questions?” Lance groaned.  “Look.  You haven’t- It hasn’t been-”  He shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets.  “I don’t like this.  But it’s not really you I’m mad at.  And I think the Black Lion might feel the same way, especially since... If Shiro was hurting somehow, they’d know it too.  And that might have made talking harder for you.  You know?”

Keith stared and slowly unknotted himself.  “Oh.  Um.  Okay.”  What did he say to that?  It helped, but Keith didn’t really have the words for how.  Finally he settled on, “Thank you.”

“Just the truth,” Lance replied. “Anyway, later.”  He rushed out, shoulders tense and not quite meeting Keith’s eyes.

Huh.

Shaking his head, Keith followed Lance out at a much more sedate pace, feet heavy and head full.

He had been going to see the Black Lion, actually, hoping for some kind of clue.  But somehow, the need for it wasn’t quite so bad, and he doubted he’d get anything out of it anyway.

Instead, maybe a nap.  It had been a long day already, and tomorrow sounded like it was going to be worse.

But as he passed the Black Lion’s hangar, Keith stopped, hand on the doorframe.  “We found him.  You probably know that but- we did.  We’re going to fix it.”

For the first time, Keith thought he felt something, rumbling and fond.

It didn’t feel at all like Red, so it was hard to tell if he was making it up or if it was the Black Lion.

Keith still left feeling like they’d gotten somewhere.

Because they had.  They’d found Shiro.

Now they just needed to figure out how to get him back.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains no actual sexual conduct, but it includes a character willing to sell another who cannot consent for sex. So if that's something that will bother you I suggest giving this one a pass

“You can still hear me?” Allura murmured.  On Pidge’s projected screens, Allura sat in the waiting room, hands folded in her lap.  Her hair was done up elaborately and her dress shone in the dim lighting, even through the terrible security cams they were hacking into.

She looked utterly unlike herself, from the dark purple fur to the white patches that crossed her face, obscuring the marks that gave her away as Altean.

Keith had never met or seen one, but if he had to pick out what a wealthy socialite Galra would like like, Allura fit the bill.

“We can hear you,” Pidge confirmed.  “And we have a visual.  Huh.  Still not used to the fluffy ears.”

Allura’s lips pulled down.  “Neither am I,” she replied, voice low.  “Hopefully this will not take long.”

Well, that was what they all hoped.

It turned out to be pathetically easy to get Allura in contact with Renus, the former commander turned shady CEO.  They called his manager up, hinted at money, and simply asked for a few moments of his time.

Keith had been suspicious of that. Renus was greedy and  _ evil _ in a way that made Keith want to punch his face in until it was a bloody smear, but he couldn’t be stupid if he’d kept his control all this time.

But the ‘main office’ was opulent.  Ridiculously huge in size, it was covered in bright gems.  So maybe Renus really was just greedy.  If anything, it reminded Keith of the casinos he’d seen on TV.

It had the security to match.  Two guards stood on either side of the door to Renus’ office, and more walked by on a regular schedule.  Each was armored and armed to the teeth, ready for anything.

Someone with that much power and wealth was probably paranoid that someone would try and take it away.

Keith was more interested in burning it all to the ground.

The door clicked, and then opened.  The Galra that stepped out heavy set and broad shouldered, with horns and ridges curling back against his head.  Maybe he’d been trim once when he was still under Zarkon’s rule, but now he was a little soft around the cheeks and stomach.  He wore several layers of silky-looking dark fabrics that draped over a jumpsuit base.  

“Ah, you must be my next appointment,” Renus greeted, voice small and tinny through Allura’s earpiece.  

Allura nodded and stood.  “I am,” she confirmed, hands folded in front of her.  “Or, I hope I am, considering the time.  Unless you have the next five minutes blocked out for someone else.”

Chuckling indulgently at the joke, Renus stepped back and held the door open for Allura.  “That would be you, then.  Come in.”  He bowed as she passed, then shut the door.

After a couple of seconds of fiddling, Pidge changed cameras, and they followed Allura in just in time to see her returning the bow.  “Excellent.  I’m excited to speak with you about this.  It’s something I’ve been considering for quite some time.”

“Not too long, I imagine,” Renus replied easily.  He sat down at a sturdy desk, made of some sort of dark, matte metal, and folded his hands over top.  “We’ve only been in operation at this level for a few months, now.”

Allura sat across from him and waved a hand back behind him to the window.  They couldn’t see through it from the camera angle, but considering where they were in the building, Keith assumed it showed the city.  “Look how much you’ve done in that time.  Very impressive.  But, yes, you’ve caught me.  It hasn’t been long by most standards.  I’m just not someone who’s used to waiting for what they want rather than making an effort to obtain it efficiently.  Thus, this meeting.”

Renus tilted his head, then smiled slowly.  It seemed to be a more genuine smile than the ones before, which were no doubt business-y and polite.  “I admire that.  What is it you’re looking for?  I’d be interested to learn how I can accommodate you.”

“The Champion,” Allura replied.  “I’ve become fascinated with his career.  The arenas were a side hobby of mine, but other things always seemed to come up.  I missed his reign the first time around, but I don’t plan on missing out a second time.”

Considering her, Renus tapped his claws against the table, each making a sharp, metallic click.  “Tickets are always available,” he replied carefully.  “As is our merchandise.  I assume that’s not what you’re after.”  His tone had gotten sharper, nearly defensive, and at first Keith wasn’t sure why.

Then he realized it sounded like Allura would want to buy Shiro.

....Actually, that wasn’t the worst idea ever.  They wouldn’t be paying anyway and it would be the fastest way to get free.

“What’s the current going rate for gladiators?” Keith hissed to Pidge.  “Did you hear about that?”

Making a face, Pidge shook her head.  “I mean, yes, I looked into it.  It’s too variable and depends on current injuries or win records.  Hard to say for someone like Shiro.  2 billion GAC, maybe?”

Lance’s lips thinned.  “You want to  _ buy _ Shiro?”

“We can get back at them for it later,” Keith replied.  “It would keep us from needing to sneak him out, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Hunk replied, voice small.  “It would.  But it’s so-”

It was.  But Keith was willing to do a lot of  _ so _ things if it meant having Shiro back and safe.  Hell, to keep any of them safe.

“It’s not,” Allura replied.  “I can get those things anywhere.  I’m more interested in something personal.”

Renus frowned deeply.  “We value the Champion deeply,” he replied, hand stilling suddenly.  The tips of his claws were pressed hard against the metal.  “And he has a very busy schedule at the moment.  Anything you want would have to fit into that.”

“That’s a no to that plan,” Pidge replied, sighing.

“I don’t think it’ll take long.  Just an evening.”

Suddenly, Renus’ demeanor changed.  “Oh,” he replied, sitting back in his chair and steepling his fingers.  “You wish for a personal meeting.”

Allura nodded and smiled easily. “Yes.  Just a wish to... talk.  Spend time with him.  I want to get to know him better.”

Tapping his claws against each other, Renus suddenly smiled.  “Yes.  Talk.  I see.”  

His tone was utterly different from how it had been before.  Now it was almost like they were sharing a joke.

Breath catching, Lance groaned.  “Oh.  Oh man.”

“What?” Keith asked, turning to him.  

Eyes wide, Lance bit on his bottom lip.  “Um.  I’m not sure yet.  But I think Allura can push for a private audience, at least.”

Back on screen, Renus nodded to Allura.  “This hasn’t been something we’ve been asked before.  It’s an interesting idea, though.  You aren’t afraid?”

“Of the Champion?  No.  I believe I can handle him.”  Allura leaned back as well, nearly mirroring Renus’ posture.  “This would work best if it was one-on-one.  I understand the Champion is an important investment of yours, but...”

Renus waved a hand.  “I doubt you could do much damage to him.  No offense to you, but he’s quite adept at defending himself.  But, yes, I can see why you’d want this particularly meeting private.”

The way he drawled the word, the slow, fanged smile-

It clicked.

This wasn’t just a private meeting.  Renus was considering selling Shiro out for his body in a new way.

Closing his eyes, Keith took a deep breath and swallowed hard against the sudden taste of bile.

A hand settled on his shoulder, making Keith start.  When he looked up, Hunk’s gaze was sympathetic as he squeezed.  “He said he hadn’t been asked before,” Hunk pointed out quietly.  “This is the first time.  And it’s us.”

Right.  Okay.  It hadn’t happened.  He was just thinking about letting it happen.  

Fuck.

“I think this can be arranged,” Renus replied.  “How would you like him?”

Allura’s brows rose at the odd question.  “What are my options?”

“Depends on what you’re interested in.  Do you want the Champion to come to you ready to listen, or would you prefer him to be a more forceful?”

Gagging, Keith’s fingers dug into in the back of Pidge’s chair.  Her fingers came off the keyboard and curled, like she was tempted to raise them to her head and cover her ears.  Instead, Keith stepped forward so his forearm pressed against her shoulder.  At first she tensed, but then she relaxed, leaning into the touch.

Pausing, Allura stared at Renus, and for the first time looked knocked off balance.  “How would you guarantee that?”

Unfortunately, Renus only shook his head.  “We have methods of making sure the Champion listens well.  So what would you like?”

Allura swallowed, and hopefully Renus would take it as interest, rather than disgust.  “Tamed,” Allura replied, and somehow her tone stayed completely even.  “I’d like him to listen to me.”

Laughing, Renus nodded.  “Oh, I understand, no need to be shy.  It’s very fun to have someone so... capable to be obedient, isn’t it?”  He smiled like they were peers.  Friends.

By her side, Allura’s hand clenched into a tight fist, but Renus couldn’t see it past his desk.  Instead she nodded.  “Exactly.  I don’t believe the Champion has another fight tomorrow?”

Renus laughed again.  “Yes, I see what you meant before about being proactive.  Tonight is good timing.  There’s no other engagements, and he’s not recovering from an injury.  I’d prefer he stay here, but I can set up a guest room for you?  We have lovely accommodations on the lower floors for our most appreciated clients.”

“I’m honored to accept,” Allura replied, voice tight.  “That would be wonderful.”

Nodding, Renus began typing at his console.  “I’ll send you the room and the best time we can have the Champion to you.  But don’t keep him awake for too long, will you?  He has a fight the next day, and it’d do us no good to have him die from this.”

Allura managed a smile.  “We should all be so lucky to die in such a way.”

“True, though I plan on living many years between.”  Renus stood and offered Allura a duck of his head. “This has been an enlightening meeting.  The contact information involves payment.  Let me know if that’s an issue.”

Allura nodded and matched the move.  “I will, but I’m sure we can meet an agreement, considering how accommodating you’ve been.”

“No problem at all,” Renus replied.  “You’ve opened my eyes.  After this, we should talk and see if you have any suggestions.”

“Of course.  For now, I hope to see more of the city, since I won’t see more tonight.”

Renus waved to her, and the door opened so she could step out.  “Have a good afternoon.”

Allura nodded back and stepped out quickly, not even glancing at the guards again.

She marched passed the waiting room and the door to the hallway, and instead marched straight into the restroom.

Pidge turned off her mic just as she started to gag.

***

Keith thought that maybe he should have stayed in the control room to meet Allura.  There might have been some words he could have said to her to help, or some gesture to make everyone else feel better about what they'd heard.

But even if Keith knew the right things to say to them, he wasn't sure he could have managed it.  His chest felt too tight, his hands tingled like they were numb.  He wasn't sure if he wanted to run away or fight or somehow manage to do both.

Instead of staying with the others, Keith found himself in front of the Black Lion.

Sitting down cross-legged, he leaned back on his palms, feeling the rough, cool texture of the floor.  It reminded him of concrete more than anything, though not quite so rough.  There were none of the pockmarks and cracks he tended to associate with that material.  Instead it was a long, perfect stretch from floor to wall to ceiling.

Focusing on textures was easier than focusing on the lion, right now.

"What happened?" Keith asked quietly.  His voice echoed slightly in the otherwise silent hangar, the hint of a murmur coming back to him.  

There wasn't an answer.  Keith hadn't really expected there to be.  It was rhetorical, just the confusing questions bouncing through his head finding an outlet.

Taking a deep breath, Keith looked up at Black.  For once, he got the feeling the lion was looking back at him, the way Red always did.  There was no movement to the head and the eyes were still blank, but this time the lion actually seemed present.

Was it that they were closer to Shiro?  Or now that they'd found him, Black didn't need to ignore him.  Maybe it had been a signal to let him know to keep looking.

Or maybe Keith was imagining it.  There was none of the warmth he got from Red, the intense, blazing attention that made it clear his lion would follow him anywhere he went.  Red had proved that, time and time again.

Yet he was sitting here, with a different lion.

Because Keith wasn't looking for comfort, or to feel wanted, or for loyalty.  He had all that in Red, had it in himself.

He was looking for answers and to what he was supposed to be aiming toward.  Weighing expectations and obligations, trying to learn what to do for the team instead of himself.  He didn't want to be selfish, didn't think he was a selfish person.  But he still wasn't where he should be, was he?

What did Shiro see in Keith?

Something brushed Keith's shoulders, and he twisted and whirled to his feet.  Pidge stared back, hand still outstretched and aimed down, frowning at him.

Slowly, Keith let out his breath and relaxed.  "Sorry."

"No, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to startle you.  Guess you were lost in though.  Were you talking to Black?"  Pidge tilted her head, the light catching her glasses, the rest of her face unreadable.

Keith shook his head.  "Just thinking."  He thought about telling her that he felt like Black was watching, now, but that was such minor progress, and he wasn't even sure it was real.  He didn't want to hear that out loud, so he kept it to himself.  When he had something real to give them, he'd share it.

Keith was trying.  He just didn't know how to prove it.

Nodding, Pidge shifted on her feet.  "Can I sit with you?"

"Sure," Keith replied, but he couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice.  Sitting, he watched until she settled in place next to him, legs tucked up to her chest and arms wrapped around her legs.

It was a defensive posture, but it was also just how Pidge sat a lot of the time.  Especially recently.

"Are you okay?" He finally asked.

Pidge glanced over at him, eyes flat.  "No," she replied.  "And neither are you."

Frowning, Keith looked away.  "Maybe."

"Definitely.  There's nothing okay about this.  Whatever's happening, whatever they're doing, it's awful.  Everything about this stupid planet is awful."  She pressed her mouth to her knees, hiding the growing frown.

"So we're not okay," Keith agreed quietly.  "But I don't-"  He winced and cut himself off.

Pidge looked over, taking a deep breath.  "You don't what?"

"I don't know how to make us okay."

Straightening up suddenly, Pidge shot him a wild look.  "You can't."

Keith winced and looked away.  "Oh."

There was a long moment of silence.  "I don't mean..."  Pidge sounded hesitant, nearly gentle.  It wasn't a tone he'd heard from her in a while.  "I don't mean that you, Keith, can't.  I mean no one can.  Not right now.  We're going to help Shiro and do something awful to this place, and that won't make everything okay, but it'll make it feel better."

Keith continued to stare at his shoes, but he did relax.  "Oh.  That- okay."  He paused.  "Thanks."

"Sure," Pidge replied, shrugging.  Her tone was too easy to be real, given how sharp she'd been, but it helped anyway.  "Can't leave you feeling bad about it, right?  We're friends."

Keith was quiet, and he felt rather than saw Pidge starting to back up.  Finally, he looked over.  "Are we?"

Pidge stared back, her eyes wide.  She drooped slowly and swallowed hard.  "I thought we were," she replied, quiet and soft.

"I thought so too," Keith replied.  "We didn't really talk about it or anything.  Not like Hunk and Lance do.  But I thought we were friends.  But lately..."

Pidge sighed hard.  "We're friends," she replied, voice tight and sharp.  "We are."

"You three-"  Keith winced and shook his head.  "Nevermind."

"No, not nevermind," Pidge snapped back, shoulders drawing back and chin lifting.  "What?"

Keith groaned and ran his fingers through his hair.  Dammit.  How was he supposed to explain this?  "After Shiro gone you... it was you three.  And then me."

It wasn't really clear.  It didn't express the full of it, how Keith had thought he had a place here, and suddenly he was on the outside, and Pidge and Lance seemed to hate him half the time, and it was three and one all the time.

But maybe he didn't need to explain that part, because Pidge sighed.  "It's not- I don't know.  It is a little different now that you're supposed to be leader.  We can't treat you like we treated Shiro, because you're you, but we can't treat you the same way anymore.  We're supposed to listen to you.  And I..."  She sighed.  "I don't want to."

Keith's chest clenched tight.  "I know."

But Pidge frowned at him, eyes bright.  "Do you?  'Cause it's not that you're bad at it.  I mean, you're new, definitely, and having you try and treat us like we're kids to be looked after?  It sucks.  You were like us until a month ago and now you're telling us where to go and when to do it?"

"That’s what I’m supposed to do!" Keith replied, his voice raising.  "What Shiro asked me to do!  All this time everyone's been telling me I'm too hot-headed and too independent and all that, and when I try and pull back and keep track of everyone, no one likes that either.  I don't know what I'm supposed to do.  I don't know the right answers."

"There aren't right answers!" Pidge shot back.  "There's just us trying to get through this, and I don't want to listen to you!  I want to go back to how it was.  I want Shiro back.  I want- I want people to actually stay!"

The words echoed in the little room, and suddenly Pidge seemed to realize she'd been yelling.  She settled back down, eyes slamming shut and lips pressed into a harsh, thin line.

She was probably trying not to cry.

Keith looked over her face, chest too tight.  This time, Keith just let out the words as he thought them.  "I do, too."

Eyes snapping open, Pidge took a deep breath, then nodded.  "Yeah.  I know.  I'm sorry we've been- we haven't really been fair to you."

"I haven't really been good at this," Keith replied.  "Lance was right.  This isn't a game.  This is everyone's lives.  We can't afford for me to stumble around and suck at this."

Pidge considered him, reaching up to swipe impatiently over her eyes.  "No, we can't. But I don't think any of us have made it easy on ourselves.  We've been expecting you to be Shiro.  You've been expecting yourself to be Shiro.  But Shiro- Shiro is someone else.  Someone we're about to go get, and we don't know what state he's going to be in.  We don't need a Shiro.  We need to be better versions of us."

"Oh."

That-

That felt right.  That made sense in the way that Pidge was good at, cutting through the bullshit and exposing the core of it.

"Okay," Keith replied.  "I think that's something we can all do."  He considered.  "You think I should talk to Lance?"

Pidge tilted her head, thinking about it.  "No, not really.  Unless you want an apology from him?"

Crinkling his nose, Keith shook his head.  "No.  I don't."  Lance didn't really do apologies when it came to Keith, and Keith never asked for them.  They butted heads and got under each other's skin without remorse, though Keith rarely actually put effort into it the way Lance did.  This time, it was more deserved that just because Keith was the top of their class or got accolades that Lance wanted.  This time, Keith was falling short, and Lance had been quick to point it out to him.  It was hard to deal with, especially given that once upon a time, Lance would have done it just to tear him down.

But he meant well, he really did.  Keith got that.  And Lance wasn't wrong, this time.  Harsh, but not wrong.

Keith couldn't exactly cast stones at people for not being gentle.

So instead, he was going to take Pidge's advice to heart.

Keith wasn't Shiro.  Keith couldn't keep casting for the words Shiro would use, couldn't keep trying to step into armor that wasn't his.

But he could wear his own and do his best in his own way.

Either it would be enough or it wouldn't be.  Keith would find out.

In the back of his head, there was a purr, deeper and heavier than the one he was used to hearing.

Keith smiled, quiet and personal, as he stood and offered his hand to Pidge.  

Taking it, Pidge squeezed tightly for one second, then let him go.  "You should come with me to pick up Allura and Shiro."

Keith paused, considering.  On one hand, it might be a better idea to have Keith, Lance and Hunk all on standby in case they needed back-up.  The closer they were to their lions, the better reinforcements they'd have.

On the other hand, Keith desperately wanted to see Shiro again.  Up close, not over the edge into the arena.

"We'll talk to everyone about it," Keith replied.  "And we'll make a call."

Pidge's answering smile was bright and quick.

The right call. 

It was a good feeling, when something finally worked.

He could feel the Black Lion's eyes on him, and knew it was approval.


	5. Chapter 5

“Everything good for you, Hunk?” Pidge asked.  Her fingers flew over the screens inside of Green, nearly a blur.  Displays popped up and moved over the console, reacting to both her movements and her thoughts.  Technically, most of what she was doing could be done entirely mentally.  It was how Keith did it.  But Pidge probably got something out of interacting with Green like she would with her laptop, if only confidence and familiarity.

There was an answering hum.  “Yeah, I think I’m good.  We’ve got a visual on you, Allura.  Sending it to the lion’s feed now.”

Before the sentence was even done, a window popped up with slightly grainy footage.  Allura was still dressed in elaborate finery from before as she paced through what looked like a hotel room.  On screen, she brought her hand to her mouth like she wanted to bite her nails, then pulled her hand back down and away quickly.

“How about you guys?” Lance replied.  “Where are you?”

“We’re above the city,” Keith replied.  “Between the arena and the main offices.  We can be there in ten seconds if we need to be, but air traffic is less here.”

Green’s cloaking continued to hold strong against anything the Galra used, because there wasn’t a peep despite the fact that they should have been clearly visible from the street.  It wouldn’t last forever, but it didn’t have to.

Shiro was supposed to be delivered any minute now.

Part of Keith regretted agreeing to come along with Pidge in Green.  The confined space wasn’t helping his restless energy.  Keith would have rather been pacing, or fighting, or anything that used up the nerves coursing through him.  Instead, he could only watch.

“Are you ready, Princess?” Coran asked carefully.  Over his coms, Keith could hear the steady taps of typing.  With Pidge in Green, he was in charge of dealing with security, a task he’d taken on with dark relish.  

On screen, Allura nodded.  “As I can be,” she replied.  Taking a deep breath, she straightened out and stopped pacing, smoothing out her dress instead.

No reason for her to look nervous, after all.  She was just a wealthy socialite with an interest in arena fighters.

Keith shivered.  One of these days he might have to do some acting of his own, but he was glad it wasn’t here or now.  Keith wouldn't have been able to keep his head half as well as Allura could.

Another screen popped up next to the one with Allura, this one showing a hallway with a familiar figure walking down it, flanked by guards.  “We have visual on Shiro.  He’s not alone, but hopefully the other two will stay outside like promised,” Hunk informed them.

“He’s still wearing that circlet,” Pidge replied, tapping on the console until it zoomed in.  It was higher quality footage than Keith would expect to see on Earth, but that amount of magnification still made Shiro’s face pixelated.  Even so, there was still clearly something silver and black around his head.  “Different outfit, though.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Lance replied, voice flat.

No kidding.  The halter top was so thin that Keith could see the outline of the rest of Shiro’s body, despite the less than perfect quality of the footage.  His pants were loose and low-cut, barely staying on his hips, and he wore thin cuffs on his wrists.  Shiro definitely didn’t look like an arena fighter anymore.  Even then, they hadn’t given him sleeves, but this was...

Well, Keith wasn’t used to seeing Shiro show so much skin.  Or wearing clothes that looked so delicate.  It looked like they’d rip off with barely any pressure, and the pants were riding dangerously low already.

All three stopped at the door to Allura’s room, and a moment later, Keith could hear it in her comm.  

“Show time,” Lance called, trying for easy and falling far, far short.

Allura nodded and took a deep breath.  Then she stepped forward and opened the door.  “Good evening,” she greeted, voice astonishingly easy given how wrecked she’d looked before.  “I believe I was promised privacy?”

On the screen, Shiro looked right at Allura’s face and didn’t even blink.

Did Shiro not remember again?  Was he acting to keep from giving up the game?  Some other reason?

One of the guards nodded.  “We won’t go in.  But no one comes out until we’ve got him settled.”

“Of course,” Allura replied, smile tight.  “Please come in, Champion.”

Shiro stepped forward mechanically, each step slow and measured.  As soon as he was inside, Allura closed the door on the guards and turned to Shiro.

Who immediately sank to one knee, head bowed.  “What are your orders?”

(Art by [Beebshee](http://beebshee.tumblr.com/post/164092078459/for-the-voltronbang-i-was-partnered-with))

For one wild moment, Keith wondered if they’d just found a doppelganger.  Maybe Shiro had a mysterious white haired twin he’d never mentioned and this was him, or maybe it was a clone, or any of a thousand other equally absurd ideas.  Because that didn’t sound like Shiro.

At least, not that Keith had ever known.

“Shiro, stand back up,” Allura replied, gesturing for him to rise.  He did, with the same mechanical efficiency, which only made Allura scowl.  “Shiro, wake up.”

There was no response. Shiro continued to stare, gaze even.  Dead.

Keith swallowed hard, pinned by those eyes even when they weren’t directed at him, or even in the same room.

Stepping forward, Allura moved into Shiro’s space, until the both of them were less than a foot apart.  Between Shiro’s strange, skimpy outfit and Allura’s elaborate dress, they looked wrong.  Like instead of a camera, Keith was looking through a mirror into a different world, where everything was off.

The tips of Allura’s fingers rested on the circlet.  Shiro stared back, expression blank, almost serene, and didn’t react to Allura in his space at all.

Twisting under it and into his hair, Allura pulled the circlet up and away, off of Shiro’s head.

His expression didn’t change at all.

Allura let out a sigh and stepped back, frowning at him.  “What have they done to you, Shiro?”

Tilting his head, Shiro stared back.  After a moment, he seemed to decide there wasn’t an order hidden in the words, and instead he continued to watch.

“We need to get him out of there,” Lance murmured.  “If we can get him back to the castle, we can figure it out.”

Swallowing hard, Allura nodded.  “Yes.  Shiro, is there anything you’re now allowed to do?”

Shiro nodded.  “I am not allowed to be permanently damaged.  I am not allowed to disobey orders that don’t contradict other orders.  I am not allowed to speak about the business practices of the Arena.  I am not allowed to give any background information about the other gladiators.  I am not allowed to go beyond the guards unless I am retrieved.”

All focused around the business.  Other than to being injured or leaving through the door, it was mostly about protecting the financial interests of the Ring.

Otherwise, Shiro was to do anything Allura wanted.

Allura took a deep breath, and it sounded like she was swallowing back nausea.  “Leaving through the window is fine, then.”

“I am not allowed to be permanently damaged.”

“You won’t be,” Allura promised.  “Are you injured now?”

Shiro shook his head.  “I am healing at anticipated rates.”

A ragged breath caught Keith’s attention.  He dragged his eyes away from the screen to see Pidge watching, her eyes wide behind the reflected glow of her glasses.  

For a moment, he hesitated.  Then he put a hand down on her shoulder.

Pidge reached up and grabbed onto it, clamping down with almost punishing strength.  But Keith didn’t move.  If this had to be endured to save Shiro, then at least they weren’t alone.  He was glad he’d come along in the Green Lion, now.  It had been the right call to make sure Pidge wasn’t in here, watching on a screen, totally by herself.

“We’re ready for pick-up,” Keith told Allura, voice soft.  There was a time to sound reserved and professional, but that wasn’t when Allura was currently facing off this automation-like version of Shiro by herself.  Not when he could see how hard she was holding onto the circlet, like she was trying to keep her hands from shaking.

Allura nodded.  “Okay.  Good.”  Shiro nodded agreeably, as though that had been answer to him.  “Let’s do this, then.”

Just as Pidge let go of Keith’s hand to grab the Green Lion’s controls, Shiro nodded and sank to his knees, head at hip level and arms folded behind him.

Hunk’s breath caught.  “Oh, he thinks- oh, _Shiro.”_

Stepping back, Allura’s hands pressed to her chest as she folded in on herself.  “You- no.  Not- stand up.  Stand up right now!”

Shiro did so, head ducked but offering no verbal apology.  His wrists stayed together behind him.

“We’ll be there in a minute,” Pidge reported, speaking through her teeth.  “You’ll want to be as far from the outside wall as possible, and then get in quick.  It’ll only take a minute for them to start attacking.”

Nodding, Allura started to reach out for Shiro, then pulled her hand back at the last second. “Shiro, could you please stand against the wall by the door.”

“Yes.”  He stepped over, back pressed to it, arms behind him, and gaze attentively waiting.

Allura swallowed hard.  “Thank you.”

Shiro stared back, head tilted ever so slightly, like he didn’t know what the word meant.

“I’m going to go tell Coran that the circlet didn’t work,” Hunk reported, voice very small.  “His pod modifications might need to change.  I’ll be- I’ll be right back.”

“Hunk,” Lance started, but his voice was small and far away, so he must have stepped after Hunk to talk to him.

Good.  He didn’t sound good.  They’d make sure the other was alright.

“Hold on tight,” Pidge called.  She aimed the Green Lion directly at the building, eyes blazing.  A flick of her fingers turned off the cloaking, and then she yanked back on the controls right before impact.  The lion’s head jammed through the metal of the wall like it was made of styrofoam.

Through the eye-cam screens, Allura and Shiro pressed against the far wall, one unaffected and the other looking shaken.  Reaching over, Allura reeled back and punched through the console to the door, jamming it.  Then she grabbed Shiro by one wrist and pulled him along after her into the Green Lion’s open mouth, just as the door started to buckle under blows and gunfire.

Then, first the first time in weeks, Shiro was in the same room as Keith.

“Go!” Allura yelled, voice thick as she dragged Shiro up the ramp to the cockpit.  “Go now!”

Yanking the controls back, PIdge grit her teeth and pulled Green back.  The door gave and blaster fire came out, but it didn’t so much as scratch the Green Lion’s pant.

Then they _flew_.  

The screens flashed warnings, weapon detection going haywire as the planet’s defenses began to lock on them.  But Pidge activated the cloaking again, and while they could fire on where they guessed the lion to be, they couldn’t get a lock, and Pidge was able to duck and weave through the city traffic, then up and out back into the atmosphere.

Keith saw almost none of it.

Instead, his eyes were locked on Shiro’s.

There was no recognition there, and it hurt worse than Keith had anticipated.  Hell, there was no reaction at all, not to the situation, not to being inside a metal lion ship, not to Keith.

Just nothing.

Up close, the outfit was even worse.  The nearly sheer fabric clung to him, run through with tiny designs like lace, coming up to wrap around his neck like a collar - the idea was probably that he could be pulled around by it.  The pants were only barely better but held so low on Shiro’s hips that stepping on them would make them fall down.  The cloth looked silky and rippable, like nothing Shiro would ever choose to wear for himself, and showed off skin.

Not just skin- scars.  So many.  The ones that Keith had known were there intellectually, but Shiro had kept covered constantly.  The lines wrapped around his body or dented into him, evidence of vicious wounds that had closed badly, healed without care.  Discoloration like the evidence of heat, acid and electricity dotted his arms and stomach, hints to what Shiro must have suffered.

Shiro would hate Keith seeing this.  Shiro would hate anyone seeing this.  He’d always controlled his physical appearance, to a degree that Keith had once found obnoxious.  Who cared if his bangs stuck up a little, or if his face had a couple of spots from stress, or any of the dozen little things that caused Shiro grief.

Now he wished he’d see that care again.  The lack of it was eerie.

Moving over to the compartments, Keith pulled open drawers until he found one of the emergency blankets tucked away.  Then he handed it over to Shiro.  “Wear this.”

Shiro looked over at Allura, who nodded.  Then he pulled it over his shoulders, draped haphazardly.  He didn’t seem like he had any idea why Keith had told him to put on the blanket, just that he’d been told to, so he would.

“We’ll be back at the castle in just a few,” Pidge said softly.  When Keith finally dragged his eyes away from Shiro, he saw her watching, lips pressed thin and eyes shuttered.  Rather than keep looking, she turned back around and focused on flying.

Not a bad call.  Keith wished he had something to do here other than stare.  

Allura settled against the wall and scrubbed her hands over her face.  Keith got the feeling this wasn’t something he wasn’t supposed to see, a vulnerability she would normally keep behind closed doors.  But there wasn’t a chance to hide, and dealing with Shiro like this was clearly rattling her.

Maybe Keith should have spoken to her - Shiro, in his right mind, probably would have - but instead he gave her what little privacy he could.

“Shiro?” He asked, voice quiet.  “Do you recognize me?”

Shiro’s gaze snapped to him, and for the first time Keith felt like he was really being seen.  Shiro’s eyes ran over every inch of Keith’s face, brow furrowed slightly and with an intensity that was nearly intimidating.  It was the same stare he’d use in training against a bot, or when trying to figure out an enemy’s movements.  Calculating.  

Finally, Shiro shook his head.  “No.”

Keith swallowed against the sudden pain and took a deep breath.  It felt like Shiro’s words had hit him in the stomach and forced all the air out of him.  “Okay.”  Then, desperately: “I know you.”

Shiro just continued to stare.  Waiting for an order.

“We’re going back to the castle,” Keith told him, a note like desperation entering his voice.  He wanted to shake him, wanted to _make_ him remember, rattle something free in that brain until they had Shiro back to himself.  This version wasn’t good enough.  Keith had been fighting to get back _Shiro,_ not just his body.  “We’re going home.”

The words came out small, pitched up, with a shake that sounded almost desperate.  Behind him, he heard Pidge shift, and a moment later he felt her fingers brush his arm.

It should have helped.

But there was one person Keith wanted the support from, one voice he wanted to tell him it was okay, it was over, things could go back to normal.

From Shiro, there was no response at all.

***

“Head up, Number One,” Coran said, tone suspiciously easy.  He tapped at Shiro’s jaw until he tilted it up, then shone something like a penlight into his eyes.  Shiro didn’t look away, despite the fact that the suddenly bright light must have been jarring.  “We’ll definitely need to look into what happened.  The hair color change is certainly interesting.  Whatever happened to you, Number One, you interacted with quite a bit of quintessence.”

Shiro stared back from his spot on the couch, expression blank.

Settling onto the couch next to Shiro, Lance nodded.  “Sure.  After we figure, you know, everything else.  You sure you don’t remember me, Shiro?  Best pilot of our group, dashing, funny?”  The attempt would have been better if his voice wasn’t so strained and his eyes tinted red.  Lance looked more like he wanted to cry than brag.

But he was trying, and he was doing better than Keith at faking it.

On Shiro’s other side, Hunk bit down on his bottom lip, a deep furrow in his brow as he thought.  “Should we keep trying to engage his memory?  Sight and sound don’t seem to be working, but scent is supposed to be most linked to that part of the brain anyway.  If we could get some familiar smells going.”  Hunk paused, then winced.  “Not that he has a lot of stuff from Earth.”

“We kept his outfit,” Lance offered.

“It’s been here in space for almost a year,” Keith pointed out.  “It smells like the castle, just like everything else around here.”

“Maybe I could make something?” Hunk offered, voice getting smaller when that plan was rejected.  “Some kind of food?  Though I don’t know if I could make something that smelled right out here...”

Pidge sighed, her hands clenching into tight fists.  “What we need to do is figure out what they did to him.  We should do a full scan.”

“Well ahead of you, Number Five,” Coran replied.  “We’ll know if something’s wrong soon enough.”

“For now, we need to get going,” Allura replied.  “The Green Lion’s cloaking will make it difficult to follow, but we need to wormhole out before they track us down regardless.”

Keith nodded.  “We can keep an eye on him.  Should we put him in the pod?”

Making a face, Coran considered. “Not yet.  There’ll be time for that.  He has a few wounds that are mostly healed, and while I’d definitely prefer them be taken care of, putting him in while he’s in this state makes me nervous.  We don’t know what it’ll do to his head.”

It might fix this.

Or it might hurt him.

Or it might make it permanent.

“Then we’ll just watch him, like Keith said,” Lance replied, and the agreement was so casual that Keith nearly missed it.  “We’ll have a chat.  Catch up with old friends.  Right, Shiro?”

No answer.

“Listen to them,” Allura commanded, though her voice was thick, like her throat was trying to close up.  “Like you would to me.”

“I hope not,” Hunk muttered.  “I’d rather not have him, you know, kneeling like that.”

“Me neither,” Allura replied darkly.  Then she nodded to them and swept out, already pulling her hair out of the updo and letting it fall down naturally again.  Coran followed after, still typing away on a pad.

That left Shiro on the couch, flanked on both sides by Hunk and Lance, while Pidge and Keith stood apart, side-by-side.

“What’s the first thing you remember?” Pidge demanded of Shiro, almost breathless with the force of it.

It took Keith a moment to realize why.

If Shiro didn’t remember any of them, then he didn’t remember the Holts either.

Shiro and Pidge were close on their own, but that shared connection was a unique bond.

Without those people in common, that was gone.

“Waking up,” Shiro replied, as though that explained everything.

Lance snorted.  “Waking up and _then_ what?”

“Then being tested and trained.  I cannot say more.  I cannot reveal insider information about the Ring.”

Nearly growing, Pidge shook her head.  “We don’t care about the Ring, we care about _you!_  When was this?”

“18 cycles ago.”

Hunk paused, frowning.  “The length of days on the Ring wasn’t too different from on the ship.  That’s not even three weeks ago.  Where was he the rest of the time?”

“That’s when they did whatever they did,” Keith replied darkly.  “Before then he probably fought them.”

“He ended up on the Ring and he wouldn’t fight,” Lance murmured.  “I bet you anything.  So they made him.  Somehow.  Shiro, when you woke up, what room were you in?”

“I cannot reveal any informatio-”

Lance groaned.  “Nevermind.  He probably can’t tell us anything useful anyway.”

“Maybe the headbands?” Pidge said.  “That way we could see what’s in his head.”

Hunk glanced at Shiro nervously.  “He might not react well to that.  He’ll feel even worse when he comes back to himself if he hurt us in the attempt.”

The conversation washed over Keith, as the idea of the headbands nagged at him.

Headbands were part of training in preparation of forming Voltron by focusing on the-

“The Black Lion,” Keith breathed.  “We can’t remind him, but maybe they can.”

Pidge frozen, then whirled on him.  “Is that a good idea?  If Coran thinks the pods are dangerous, then the lions have to be worse, right?”

“I don’t know,” Hunk replied thoughtfully, each word slow like he was picking them individually.  “It might be that Coran is afraid of healing him wrong.  Like a badly set bone.  The lions are different.  They’re not forcing anything, they just talk.”

Lance tilted his head.  “We could wait and ask,” he pointed out.  “But there’s not really a point, is there?  We either make Shiro wait longer to talk to the lion and get better, or wait longer for nothing to happen.  The lions don’t force anything, just speak through the bond.”

Glancing between them all, Pidge’s eyes went wide, and Keith could tell she was starting to get hopeful.  “I don’t know how it could hurt him,” she agreed.  “There’s probably not any harm.”

Keith hesitated again, just for a second.  This was Shiro’s brain they were messing with, after all.  Maybe they should be more careful?

But no one knew the lion bonds like paladins.  Keith knew that Red would sooner fly into the sun than damage Keith.  It had to be the same for Black.  Their bond was enough to form those wings and steal the bayard from out of Zarkon’s hands.

“Shiro, follow us.”

Standing, Shiro walked after them, each mechanical step like another reason they had to do something.

The trip to the hangar was thankfully quick.  Keith punched in the code then stepped aside.  “Go in.”

For the first time, Shiro frowned and paused, like he recognized something was strange.  But then he walked in.

The Black Lion was standing, the same way they had been the first time Shiro interacted with them.

He stared with the same expression he had then as well, eyes wide and mouth open in awe.

Slowly, Shiro’s hands came up to his hair.  His fingers scraped against his temples and his eyes slammed shut.  All of him tensed tightly as he took a deep, jagged breath.

Then Shiro screamed.


	6. Chapter 6

“Shiro!”

“Oh,  _ no, _ this was a bad idea, oh man-”

“Someone call Coran.”

Grabbing onto Shiro’s shoulder, Keith looked him over for a physical injury, not surprised when he didn’t find one.  Then he switched his grip, wrapping his fingers around Shiro’s and trying to pry his hands away before he cut his skin with his nails.  “Shiro.  Shiro!  C’mon.”

The scream was painful to listen to, a piercing pitch that wasn’t slowing at all.

Keith glanced at the others, and saw the same panic he was feeling reflected in their eyes.

It was terrifying to see Shiro like that.  He was supposed to be the leader, supposed to be calm under pressure, someone they could rely on.

But now all that was stripped away and he was just  _ hurting. _

Cupping either side of Shiro’s head, Keith covered his ears and pulled him in closer, nearly craddling his head.  Shiro didn’t seem to notice, his voice crackling as the scream went on and on and  _ on. _

“Do something!” Lance called, eyes wide and desperate.

Keith’s head jerked back, hurt.  He’d thought they were finally getting somewhere.  “I’m trying!  I don’t know what to do.”

Pointing back at the lion, Lance spread his arms.  “Tell the Black Lion to stop.”

“I can’t!  The lion doesn’t listen to me.”

Hunk stepped next to Shiro, smoothing a hand down his back.  Shiro jerked away from the touch, sudden and automatic, and his pitch jumped up in alarm.  “Try?  Pidge, can you get-”

“On it.”  Pidge nodded to them and bolted back out the door, her eyes noticeably red.

Okay.  Talking to the Black Lion.  Right.

What was he supposed to say?  Hadn’t Shiro said no one was supposed was supposed to order the Black Lion?  

Finally, Shiro’s screaming stopped, but it was clear the pain didn’t.  A quiet sob escaped him, and his whole body shivered and jolted like he had a high fever.

Enough.

Squaring his shoulders, Keith met the Black Lion’s gaze.  For that moment, he could feel the lion’s attention shift, no longer solely focused on Shiro.  

“You’re hurting him.”

There was a pause, and then Shiro went suddenly limp.  Keith ducked, shifting his grip to hold onto Shiro’s shoulder instead of his head, and Lance dove forward to catch his other side.  The pair of them struggled under Shiro’s dead weight until Hunk put his hands on Shiro’s chest to help.

“C’mon, let’s set him down,” Hunk murmured, helping direct most of Shiro’s weight until he was sitting.  When he let go, Shiro drooped limply to the side, and Keith shifted to take that weight, letting Shiro rest against his shoulder.

Having Shiro that close - feeling the familiar weight of him pressing in - made something in Keith’s chest snap.  He pulled Shiro closer, actively holding onto him.

It hit anew that he was back.  Shiro was  _ back. _  Maybe it wasn’t the perfect return he’d wanted, a release from responsibilities Keith had never wanted or asked for, and it was clear that Shiro had suffered and would need time.  But that had been true last time, and he was  _ back. _

This time, Shiro hadn’t returned on his own.  But they’d come and gotten him anyway, and it made part of Keith relax.  It ached in a good way, like finally releasing a muscle after holding it far too long.

When he looked up, he noticed Lance’s gaze.  His shoulders were slumped and he looked both sad and nearly guilty.  Keith stared back, not sure what he wanted.

Finally, Lance sighed.  “Look, we-”  He paused and grimaced.  “We’ll talk later.  Shiro?”

There was no response.  Keith had to duck his head to see Shiro’s face rather than his now pure white hair.  His gaze was no longer calm and blank.  He seemed to be registering the environment more, actively looking around and reacting to any movements.  But there was no recognition there, only dazed, animal fear.

Frankly, he looked drugged.

“Do you think they gave him something?” Keith asked quietly.  “Not technical, not torture or whatever.  Something to make him out of it?”

“I don’t think so.  He’d be acting that way the whole time, right?” Hunk reached out and put his hand on Shiro’s other shoulder.  “Hey-”

Shiro jerked away from the movement, curling in tighter.  He didn’t try to yank away from Keith, but he barely seemed to notice it was a person he was pressed against rather than a wall.

That might actually hurt more than the fear.

But looking at Hunk’s stricken expression, probably not.

Swallowing hard, Keith looked back at the Black Lion.  Rather than try and speak again, Keith reached out in the same tentative way he’d felt for Red the first time, toward the  _ something _ he was vaguely aware of in the room.  He added his determination to save Shiro, the same way he’d felt when he’d flown the lion before, and a plea.

_ I’m sorry we put you in this position.  We’ll take it over from here.  Let us handle it and you’ll have him back. _

For a moment there was no response, and then the Black Lion laid back down.  Keith got a mixture of satisfaction and impatience back.  That was acceptable.  For now.

Well, fine.  Keith could work with that.

“Was that you?” Lance asked, looking back as the lion almost seemed to go to sleep.  “Or was that Shiro?”

“Me,” Keith admitted.  “We’ll be okay for the moment.”

Lance nodded philosophically.  “Figures.  Well, you can do it.  We know that now.”

Keith could have replied that he’d done it before or that it had just been for Shiro’s sake, but instead he nodded and accepted it for what it was - an olive branch.  “Yeah.  Right now, we’ve got more important things.”

“True.”  Lance stood up and moved to the console.  “Pidge, Coran?”

“Here,” Pidge’s voice replied, choppy from sprinting.  “Did something happen?”

Lance nodded, not seeming to notice they wouldn’t see the gesture.  “Yeah, the lion backed off.  He seems better now, but he’s definitely still out of it.”

“We’re heading there now,” Coran chimed in.  “I wish you’d asked before doing this on your own.”

Considering, Lance tilted his head.  “Would you have told us not to?”

“No, but then you wouldn’t have had to send Pidge to get me.”

“Okay, next time that Shiro’s kidnapped and brainwashed by Galra commanders we’ll be sure to do that.”

Keith’s lips quirked up, reluctantly amused.  The he looked down at Shiro, giving him a gentle shake.  “Shiro?  Are you alright?”

Still no answer.  His eyes darted up to Keith, but he didn’t reply or keep looking for long.

“Well, this is better than the creepy obedience,” Hunk decided.  “And he’s reacting like himself.”  When Keith glanced up, he shrugged.  “When I touched his skin he nearly jumped out of it.  That’s what I’d expect from Shiro.”

That was true.  Keith would never have thought he’d be glad to see Shiro shying from contact, yet here he was.

Progress, maybe.  Or they’d hurt him more.  It was hard to tell at the moment.

Rapid footsteps caught Keith’s attention, and he looked up just as Pidge burst back into the room, Coran on her heels.  She paused when she say them in a heap, then crashed down along with the rest of them.  “He’s okay?  Everything’s alright?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Hunk muttered.  “But he’s not screaming.  It’s an improvement.”

“I’d imagine so,” Coran replied.  He settled down in front of Shiro, pulling out a penlight.  “The scanners are compiling.  There’s a number of differences between how he was before he disappeared and now.  From what I saw, most of them are leftovers of injuries, but we’ll see what else it finds.  I sent it all to your pads.  For now, head up, Number One.”

There was no response, so Coran tapped under Shiro’s chin.  He flinched from the contact, leaning back, which incidentally pushed him farther into Keith’s grip.  His skin was pale, even for how he looked since the Galra, and there was nothing but blank confusion in his eyes.

“No,” he whispered, the first word since his earlier screaming.  His voice cracked painfully around it, and after he fell quiet, shaking his head.  It didn’t seem to be an active rejection so much as an emotional reaction, his arms screwed up to his chest and his jaw set as if prepared for pain.

Shiro looked younger than Keith had seen him in a long time.

Instinctively, he curled up tighter against him.  Shiro stilled suddenly, and didn’t relax until Keith loosened his grip again.  “Maybe we shouldn’t.  Give him some space to calm down.”

“We don’t know if the lion in his head hurt him,” Lance pointed out quietly.  “He needs to get looked at.”

Coran nodded solemnly.  “I’d like to make it as painless as possible.  I’m sorry, Shiro.”  With that, Coran pushed up his chin again, and this time Shiro didn’t fight as much.  He stilled, tense as a rabbit that had sighted a dog, but looked at the light when it was raised to his eyes.  He followed it without a problem until the second it was taken away, and then he ducked his head back down.

Humming, Coran leaned back on one hand.  “Reactions are back to normal,” he murmured.  “He just seems confused, now.”

Pulling her pad out of her bag, Pidge started to tap on it, then paused.  “Coran, does the arm look any different to you?”

Coran frowned, tilting his head to try and see it better.  “Not that I can tell from the outside.”

“The scanner doesn’t show anything about it,” Pidge said slowly.  “You’re right, there’s a few weird injuries but I don’t see anything like signs of... training.  All the injuries were pretty small or else obviously from combat.  But if the scanner doesn’t show the arm...”

“We would miss it,” Hunk concluded.  “It definitely has a neurological component too, since he can use it like he uses his normal hand.”

They all paused and looked down at Shiro.  He curled up tighter under their gazes, eyes flickering nervously from person to person.

“If he’s scared, why isn’t he trying to run?” Keith murmured thoughtfully.  “Or fight, or anything but just... be scared.”

Lance shrugged.  “It must be just... half working now, right?  Maybe it has two parts.  The bit that makes him listen and the part that makes him not remember.  If he was himself he’d fight them, so whatever they did had to make him not himself.  But being out of it is different from instant obedience, right?”

Crinkling his nose, Hunk sighed.  “There could be more parts than that.  There could be an entire nesting doll of stuff going on.”

“Maybe?  There’s only so much they can do before it gets redundant.  They only had him for a few weeks.”  Pidge sighed.  “And then there’s the question of what that circlet did.  It didn’t change his behavior at all.”

Keith frowned.  “But that’s definitely not a thing you get a fighter to wear normally.  None of the other gladiators were wearing it.”

“So it has a-” Hunk froze, eyes going wide.  “Okay, you have a fighter that’s perfectly obedient.  What are you most worried about?”

Tilting his head, Lance pulled his jacket tighter around himself like he was cold.  “Well, if you know he won’t run and he won’t fight back, I guess you worry that something happens to him?”

“And how would you monitor that?”

Coran’s head whipped up.  “You put something to defend him, or something where you can always check in.  It’s-”  He took a deep breath and spoke into the comms.  “Allura.  Are you at the helm?”

There was a brief pause.  “Yes.  Do you need me to check for something?”

“Do you still have the circlet?”

“Yes,” Allura replied.  “I can bring it to you if you need.”

Lance leaned forward.  “It’s probably a-”

He was interrupted by alarm sounds from the comm.  Allura took a sharp breath.  “Galra ships just arrived at our location.  Paladins, get to your lions.  Coran, I need you up here.”

That would leave Shiro alone.

That would mean Keith had to leave Shiro.

His stomach twisted on itself, trying to crawl back up his throat.  All of him wanted to stay right here, not keep Shiro safe, to be the person he was leaning against.  Even now, even without his memories, Shiro was still staying with him.

But it wasn’t about what Keith wanted.  It was about being the leader he was asked to be.

So he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, ignoring the furious pressure in his chest, then started to stand.

But a hand landed on his shoulder and pushed back back down.  When he looked up, Hunk gave him a thin smile and shook his head.

“You stay,” Lance told him.  “We’ve got this.”

Keith frowned up at him, unsure.  It was what he wanted, but that didn’t mean it was the right call.  “Three lions isn’t much.”

“We’ve fought Zarkon’s flagship fleet,” Pidge pointed out, pushing herself to her feet.  She handed over her pad, and Keith took it numbly.  “I think we can manage what’s basically casino security for a little while.  If we need you, we’ll call.  But someone should stay with Shiro.  And it should be you.”

Was Keith being selfish in taking this?  Was it something Shiro would do?

...Was he asking the right questions?

The other three knew what they were getting into.  This wasn’t a trick or a test, it wasn’t something to hold above his head and say ‘you did this wrong, you’re not fit to be a leader’.  If Keith’s version of being a leader was going to work, he needed to let them make calls - he needed to trust them and their assessment of the situation.

“Go,” he agreed.  “I can be there in five if you need me.”

Lance saluted, if sarcastically.  “We’re trusting you with the most important job.”

Smiling thinly, Keith nodded.  “I’ll keep him safe.”

“Of course,” Hunk replied.  “Alright, c’mon. Let’s-”  There was a rumble as the shields took some kind of fire, though not enough that Keith was worried it would collapse just yet.  “Time to go!”

“Since he seems more comfortable with you touching him, take the time to try and find anything unusual,” Coran advised.  “They’re probably using the arm to help connect, but they couldn’t have had the druids on hand to help, or else they’d have taken Shiro to Haggar.  So there might be something else.”

Keith nodded thoughtfully.  “Right.  I’ll do my best.”

With a last nod, Coran ran out, the others on their heels,  Keith saw them all look back one more time, clearly worried.

Then it was just the two of them.

Well, three.

Keith glanced at the still settled Black Lion and sighed.  “Any advice, here?”

He got nothing.  At least time it wasn’t the emptiness of before.  Keith could feel the lion, same as he could with Red.  There just wasn’t an answer.

“Okay,” he murmured, tone wry.  “Let’s give this a shot.”  He pulled up the scans on Pidge’s pad and started to look through the changes.

There were more than a handful.

Evidences of broken bones, of stab wounds, of blunt force trauma.  For him to still be as healthy as he was, Shiro had probably spent a lot of time in whatever served as a healing pod in between matches.

Keith didn’t even know where to begin to figure out which of these were only combat and which of these might have messed with him.

Glancing down at Shiro, Keith sighed.  “You have any suspicions, here?”

Shiro shivered and didn’t seem to hear him at all.

“Figures,” Keith replied.  He sighed.  “Alright, let’s start from closest to the arm out.  That makes sense, right?”

“No.”

Keith paused, looking down at Shiro, who was curled up tighter again.  “It doesn’t make sense.”

“No.  No no no.”  Shiro pulled into himself, hands fisting into his hair.  “No.  No  _ no.” _

The Black Lion stirred at Shiro’s words, automatically reacting to his distress.  Keith could feel the lion tense in return, preparing to fight whatever was causing him pain.

Keith understood the desire completely.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you,” Keith told him.  “Shiro, c’mon, it’s me.  Keith.”  He paused, then added.  “Your paladin.  In a team way.”

The joke had no reaction, which figured.  If anything, Shiro seemed to be getting more and more unhappy.  Suddenly, he pulled away, then shoved Keith back.  He hit the ground with a grunt, too surprised to do anything but take the heat.

“C’mon!” Keith groaned.  “You were fine with me before.  What changed?  I don’t have to touch, okay, I can just look.  You’re sleeveless anyway.”

When he sat back up, Keith pushed his bangs out of his face and frowned.  

Shiro looked terrified.

“Shiro?”

Something was wrong.

The arm flickered to life, then died off.  Pulling it away from his head, Shiro grit his teeth like he was fighting something off, and started to shake when it lit again.

Something was  _ very _ wrong.

“No!”  Shiro scrambled back, slowly drawing himself to his feet.  “No, no, I don’t  _ want _ to!”  He groaned, but his stance changed.

Into a fighting stance.

Shiro darted forward, arm extended.  It was a clumsy move, but he was growing more fluid with each step.  For a moment, Keith only gaped, but he scrambled to his feet and moved out of the way.  Striking, Shiro used his arm to pivot and run forward again.  His eyes were wild and glazed, teeth gritted like he was trying to break them.

But it was undeniably a deadly attack, if an unwilling one.

Thankful he was still in his armor from the mission, Keith drew his bayard and dodged out of the way of Shiro’s second blow.  He raised his sword, and there were sparks as the blows met.

Stepping away, Keith swallowed hard.  “Shiro.  Shiro, c’mon!”

But there was no response, no recognition, nothing but blank fear.

Keith was going to have to fight him.


	7. Chapter 7

“Shiro!” Keith called, voice rough as his breathing got heavier.  It wasn’t easy keeping up with Shiro, especially when he was attacking with deadly force.  

All Keith could do was defend.

Defense wasn’t really his strong suit.

“Shiro, c’mon.  You don’t want to do this.  You don’t want to hurt me, I know you don’t.  You never want to hurt anyone!”

Without answering, Shiro jabbed at Keith’s left shoulder.  He ducked out of the way, but the return strike was at a bad angle, and Shiro easy avoided it in return.  He returned the blow with a swift kick to the ankles.

Keith was prepared for that, though, and he jumped over it.  He immediately took several quick steps back. Shiro would attack immediately after, trying to take advantage of any bad footing.

It was familiar.  How many times had they sparred before?  How many times had Shiro managed to kick out Keith’s feet, or pinned him as soon as he relaxed from managing to avoid the blow?

They’d done this dozens of times.  Even out of it as he was, Shiro still fought like he always did.

That was going to keep Keith alive.

“Shiro, listen.  You need to-”  He ducked another strike to the head, moving into a roll to get out of the way.  “You know me.  You know this fight.”

Lips pulled back into a snarl, Shiro gave up trying to slice with his arm.  Instead he jolted forward, finally connecting his with shoulder.  The blow send Keith stumbling back, nearly throwing off his balance.  Keith tensed and threw up his blade blindly.  It was enough to connect with Shiro’s next blow, despite not seeing where it was coming from.

Why was that?

Keith frowned and twisted, moving under another slash.

This wasn’t just familiar.  It was predictable.  Shiro was fighting like a machine.

That wasn’t how he’d fought in the arena.  He’d been clever and adaptable there.  Brutal.

This really was like a spar, if a particularly deadly one.

Was Shiro holding back?

Keith took advantage of Shiro readjusting to keep up with his speed.  He couldn’t strike, so instead Keith pushed, knocking him back several steps.  “I’m not going to hurt you, Shiro.  You can hear me.  You know it’s me.  You know who I am.  You’re fighting this, I know you can do more.”

There was still no answer.  Shiro barreled forward, using his extra bulk for more momentum.  Keith sidestepped him, ducking around his back.  For a moment Shiro was fully extended, his arms, neck and back all exposed to Keith’s gaze.

He saw something there, nestled just at the hairline at the base of Shiro’s neck.

It was only for a moment, so fast Keith couldn’t see tell what it was.  

But it was  _ something. _

Now Keith just needed Shiro still enough to get to it.  Without either of them getting killed.

Turning Keith held up his blade, but instead Shiro leaned and kicked.  The blow caught Keith on the hip, sending him tumbling down.  His bayard reverted automatically before he could accidentally stab himself.  

Keith scrambled, getting his feet under him, but Shiro never gave him a chance.  He kicked, powerful, snapping blows.  Keith was able to duck his head to avoid the first, but the second caught him in the shoulder, sending him crashing painfully back onto the floor.

Pushing himself onto his elbows, Keith pulled his bayard out, but Shiro already had his arm up, ready to strike down now that Keith couldn’t move.

Shit, shit, he couldn’t get his bayard in place in time, not for this. He was going to-

Shiro froze.  And then screamed.

The same scream as before, including how strangled his voice sounded.

It only lasted a second, but it was enough to get his feet under him.  

Keith glanced at the Black Lion, whose head was up and focused on them both.

_ Now. _

No need to tell him twice.

While Shiro was still reeling in pain, Keith kicked him in the knee.  Shiro’s buckled under his own weight, completely unprepared, and he went down in a heap.

He started to push up, but Keith didn’t even bother to keep fighting.  Instead he jumped onto Shiro, driving his knees into the muscles of his back.  It would be painful, but it probably wouldn’t kill him, and there was a pod for everything else.

Right now, Keith had a different priority.

Gritting his teeth, he grabbed hold of Shiro’s now pure-white hair, forcing his head against the floor.  Like this, he could see that whatever the something was, it was just below the skin, and looked metallic.

Had that been there before, and Keith just hadn’t known?  He didn’t think he’d seen Shiro’s bare neck like this up close since before the Kerberos mission.  Shiro kept near all of his skin totally covered.

What would cutting that do?   It could free him, or it could kill him.

Keith hesitated.

But then he felt something like a headbutt to the back, and the feeling of a lion.  Not Black, but Red.

Maybe Keith was working with Black, maybe he was stepping up as leader, but he was still himself.  He was everything that had led up to this.

He was going to trust the others, and he was going to trust himself.  Including his instincts.

Before Shiro could get his arms under him and push off, Keith took his Bayard and sliced it across the back of Shiro’s neck, through the skin and whatever was below it.

Shiro cried out, then went suddenly, terrifyingly still.

He didn’t get back up.

Scrambling off of him, Keith put his hand on Shiro’s shoulder.  

What had he done?

But Black wasn’t furious, like Keith would expect if he’d killed Shiro.  Instead, there was a flash of pure, brilliant satisfaction.

Slowly, Shiro twitched.  He got his hands under him and pushed up.  

Then he tilted his head over until Keith could see his eyes.

“Keith?”

Keith had never known how just his name could make his chest feel cracked open.

Leaning forward, Keith grabbed Shiro and pulled him into a hug.   _ “Shiro!” _

This time, Shiro’s arms came around Keith in return, pulling him close with almost crushing force.  “I’m sorry.  I’m  _ so  _ sorry.”  Then he pulled back away, breathing fast.  “You shouldn’t- I might-”

“I broke it,” Keith replied.  “They can’t do that anymore.  C’mon, let’s get you to the med bay, and-”

Shiro stood suddenly, shaking his head.  His eyes were wide, and they  _ burned _ in a way Keith wasn’t used to seeing.  It was the same intensity he’d had when they’d captured Sendak, and Shiro had stared into his pod for hours.

“No,” he replied, voice quiet.  “They’re here, right?”

Considering, Keith pushed himself up as well.  “You mean those Galra?  Yeah.  They-”  He frowned as something clicked.  That was why Shiro had suddenly freaked out again.  They must have had some remote way of sending him commands.

Shiro nodded.  “We’ll talk in a bit, and then I’ll get checked out.  But I have business to settle.”  His hands shook at his side, and he clenched them hard.  

“Shiro, the others said they’d call if they needed help-”

“It doesn’t  _ matter!” _  The shout made Keith pause, surprised.  Shiro stared at him, eyes wild, breath coming in short, desperate pants.  “It’s not about winning.  It’s about- they did that to me.  I had to-”  His voice cut off suddenly and Shiro shook his head.  “I need to do this.”

This was a bad idea.  It was impulsive and emotional and it was likely to get Shiro hurt.

Somehow, Keith found himself surprised to remember that sometimes Shiro made bad calls too.  And it didn’t make him a failure of a leader.

It was the wrong call, but Shiro deserved this chance.  So Keith nodded.  “Okay.  Go.  We’ll deal with the rest after.”

Shiro’s expression cracked into something vulnerable.  “Thank you,” he muttered, and he reached out and grabbed Keith in another tight hug. Keith held back just as fiercely.

Then he let go.  “I’ll get to Red.”

“Thank you.”  With that, Shiro turned around, his shoulders set.  He marched to the Black Lion, who opened up easily to him.

Keith waited until the mouth was closed and he couldn’t see Shiro.  Then he turned and ran.

***

The battlefield was chaos.

It wasn't that Lance, Hunk and Pidge had been wrong about their ability to handle the fleet.  Especially with the castle backing them up, they were avoiding fire and knocking ships out of the sky without too much issue.

What they had underestimated was the size of the fleet and how powerful they were.

No, this clearly wasn't Zarkon's flagship fleet, and nothing came close to the size and scope of his own ship.  But that didn't make them pushovers.  Even without Haggar's bolstering and the full might of the Galra Empire, they had everything money could buy.  And they had a lot of money.

"The Black Lion!" Pidge called, spinning her lion to watch better.  The vines sprouting from several enemy ships began to overtake them and rip them apart, keeping them from being a direct threat.  "Shiro?  Or is that Keith?"  There was a hint of hope in her voice, like she was trying not to feel it.

"I'm in the Red Lion," Keith replied, after a long silence where Shiro didn't answer.  "That's Shiro."

"He's okay?" Allura replied, pure relief in her voice.  "Oh, thank goodness.  Well done."

"Great to have you back, man!" Lance called.  "You snapped out of it, then?"

Another pause.  "Yeah," Shiro replied, nearly distracted.  "I don't- I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh."  Hunk swallowed audibly.  "Sorry. You're okay?"

Shiro didn't answer.  Instead, the Black Lion's jawblade activated.  They dove forward at speed, ripping several ships apart.  He didn't pause as they started to blow, instead flying deeper into the fray.

Without any back-up.

"Shiro, what are you doing?" Keith called.  He flew up to settle next to the Yellow Lion, his stomach sinking.  Maybe this had been too soon.  No, this had definitely been too soon.  He was still bleeding from his cut open neck, after all.

There was a long, ragged breath.  "I need-"  Shiro fell silent for another long moment, the lion stilling.  

Another ship turned in place, it's canon flashing, and shot out at the still lion.

"Shiro!"  Allura called.  "To your right!"

The Black Lion started to turn to see, but it was too late.  The canon blast hit, sending Shiro spinning out of control further into the bulk of the enemy's forces.  Luckily, no one on the other side seemed to realize who it was in the Black Lion.  

The circlet must still be with Allura, if she hadn't already smashed it.  So there was that, at least.

Keith started after, but caught himself.  Red was built for speed, hitting fast and getting out.  This wasn't his area.  "Hunk, I'll clear a path.  Can you help defend Shiro?"

"Got it," Hunk replied, voice hardening.  "Try to hold your ground, Shiro, we're heading your way."

"I'm fine," Shiro replied shortly, breathing still ragged.  "Black took the hit.  We can keep going."

"Not if you're flying like that!" Pidge replied.  "You should head back and rest-"

There was an actual snarl from the comms, wordless rejection.  "No!" Shiro shot back, in nearly the same tone.  "I'm not going back.  I'm going to fight them.  I'm going to- they... no.  I'm doing this."

Keith considered, taking a deep breath.  "Lance, cover fire for a second?"

There was a hint of a pause.  "You got it," Lance replied, voice surprisingly easy.  He started to fire out with his sonic gun, sending all but the very closest ships scattering.  It gave Shiro enough time to settle himself and start to fight off the few still on him.  The Black Lion twisted in place like a whirlwind, claws and blades lashing out and sending them flying away.

"Okay I'm heading in," Keith said.  "Be ready, Hunk."  

With that he burst through, Red's back canon lighting up and sending out bursts of heat and energy. In deep space, it may not have been flames in the same way, but it was plenty of firepower.  

Rather than stay with Shiro, Keith blew past him and then curved up, burning another swath through the enemy forces.

In front of him, the main ship started to power up its canons, moving to adjust.

"Pidge, Lance, I need your help distracting.  Hunk, try to get Shiro out of the way."

Shiro let out a groan.  "I don't need to be out of the way."

"If you're not going to dodge, you do," Keith pointed out.

The Yellow Lion pushed through the path Keith had made as Blue and Green joined Keith above the majority of the fray, drawing attention up with them.  "Shiro, it's okay.  You've just been through a lot.  It's alright if you need time."

"It's not like that," Shiro replied, but his voice had gotten quieter.  "I need to be here.  I just- it's hard.  Black is-"

It took a moment for it to click, and then Keith let out a quiet sigh, hopefully not enough for anyone else to hear.  With how they'd just hurt each other, and with everything else that had just happened with Shiro's head, the connection was probably tentative.  They needed a few minutes to settle, and Shiro was diving in, instead.

Like Keith usually did.

Put like that, he could understand everyone else's frustrations a little more.

"Okay," Keith replied.  "Take a few and concentrate, Shiro. You're not going to be able to hit them back like they deserve unless you really have it."

There was a long few seconds of quiet before Shiro finally sighed.  "Okay.  Just a couple of minutes."

"In the meantime, I've got Shiro," Hunk confirmed.

"And we've got the rest," Pidge replied.  "At least, what Allura and Coran don't get."

Coran chuckled.  "We're just providing back-up."  The castle launched another volley, hitting the swarming forces far away from the lions to avoid friendly fire.  They could usually dodge when it was needed of them, but in cases like this, it was better not to risk it.

The three of them split apart, each diving the main ship from different directions.  Immediately, the rest of the ships mostly turned around to fight them, but Keith ignored them other than to dodge their fire.  Yellow and Black could handle those ships and be knocked around, but that larger canon was the real problem.

Green fired on the ship, and vines started to burst out along the edges, but it wasn't enough to affect any of the systems.  Meanwhile, Lance started to fly distracting circles around the cameras and sensors, trying to pull their attention on him through sheer proximity.  It worked in that the smaller defenses started to fire on him, but he was behind where the canon could reach, and they didn't bother to try and redirect it.

So instead Keith went right for that, claws scraping against the shielding as he tried to get in.  "Pidge, do you think you can tell where the shield generator is?"

"Maybe," Pidge replied.  "This thing's been modified to hell and back.  It'd be closer to where Lance is.  Sending it now."

"Got it," Lance replied.  He equipped his sonic cannon and started to blast the side of the ship.  It rumbled and broke under him, but held up well under the assault.  "Um, give me a second."

Keith grit his teeth and started to blast at the shield, trying to weaken it in time.  But he couldn't keep up a concentrated volley, as other ships started to swarp and fire on him.  He had to move, twisting to knock them away instead.  "How long do we have?"

"Seconds," Allura replied.  "Hunk, you and Shiro need to be moving."

"Got it," Hunk replied.  The Yellow Lion latched onto Black and started to tug, trying to move them both, but the Black Lion stayed limp.  "Shiro?"

"One second," Shiro replied, voice tight.

"We need that one second to move," Hunk replied.  "You can keep concentrating after, we need to-"

The canon suddenly surged and fired, just as the Black Lion started to shift.

"No!"  Red was sent tumbling out of the way from the sheer power of the blast, and he had to spend a couple of seconds just getting his feet under him again.  Over the coms, he heard more calls and screams, as the blast headed straight for the vulnerable lions.

But the Black Lion was still shifting, and it wasn't the blasters activating.

It was the wings.

The blast rocketed into both lions, but didn't stop or impact.  Instead, he continued going straight through them, as if they were just shadows.  As the blast moved away and dissipated, Keith could see the energy coming off the Black Lion's wings, swirls of dark purple energy fanning away with each beat of the wings.

Just like when Shiro had somehow managed to snatch the bayard out of Zarkon's hands.

"There we go," Shiro murmured, finally sounding a little more like himself.  "Sorry for the scare, Hunk.  The phase wasn’t too uncomfortable for you, right?"

"It's okay, I'm only a little traumatized," Hunk replied, voice pitched and tight.  "Maybe next time warn me what you're up to?"

"Sorry," Shiro repeated, and he sounded honestly contrite.  "I couldn't split my concentration.  Everyone good?"

Keith's shoulders relaxed as Shiro finally started to sound like the person Keith knew.  "Yeah, we're good.  You ready to do this properly?"

Shiro hummed.  "Actually, I'm ready to end this."

"Uh, you sure?" Lance asked carefully.  "No offense, Shiro.  It's awesome you've got the wings working again.  But you were just flying like- well.  Like we all did at first."

There was a pointedly agreeing silence from Pidge, and Hunk was still breathing heavily into the comms from his scare.

Keith considered, then took a deep breath.  "Go for it," he replied.  "If something goes wrong, we've got his back."

Because it was about working together and communicating, but it was also about trust.  It was about letting people in and letting them surprise you.

The Black Lion's wings beat, and he felt approval, echoed oddly.  It took Keith a moment to realize it wasn't just a strange feeling, but multiple beings backing him up.  It was Red, but it was also Black.

And Keith could have sworn he felt Shiro in there too.

"Thank you," Shiro replied.  "One shot.  Then I'll back off.  You're right, I'm not flying well.  But I need to do this."

"Alright," Pidge replied, just a hint of reluctance in her voice.  "Better do it fast.  It's gaining energy again."

Shiro hummed his agreement, then shot forward, rocketing past them.

He was aiming straight for the heart of the ship.

"The shields are sti- oh," Lance's voice went soft.  "Can he do that?"

Before Keith could ask what, he saw the Black Lion hit the ship's shields, and then passed right through, as if it were made of air.

Oh.

The Lion slipped through the undamaged hull, leaving no trace of itself behind.

"You know," Hunk murmured.  "I really hope we're right that Shiro's back to himself.  Otherwise we just let him fly himself right back to them."

Over the comm, Shiro snorted, but it was a strangled sound.  "You're not wrong.  But I just wanted to do this."

The ship suddenly shuddered and buckled, all the external lights and energy suddenly shutting off.  There was a blast, and the Black Lion shot out from the other side, this time bursting through the hull.

He'd reformed in the middle of the ship and torn through the vulnerable insides.

There was something vaguely gross about that, actually, but it was impossible to deny how effective it was.  As the Black Lion curved back around to them, the ship started to give, it's structural integrity completely lost.  Explosions began, tearing it apart from the inside out, and soon it ripped itself into huge, dangerous pieces.

At the blow, the other ships started to retreat, not wanting to be next.

Keith couldn't really blame them, and he was happy to see it.  As much as he'd like to blow them to hell and back still, he'd rather end this fight and get Shiro back inside.

"Welcome back, Shiro," Allura murmured.  "You were very missed."

Shiro swallowed hard.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to leave."  He sighed.  "We should talk."

"Rest first," Keith argued.  "A pod, too.  You needed it, but Coran didn't want to risk it when you were like it.  Good thing, or else whatever that thing was might have been more hidden."

There was a deep breath.  "I need this out first."

"Then let's head back," Lance replied, trying for easy and mostly sounding wary.  

Despite everything else, it was five lions and five paladins that re-entered the Castle.

And that was still better than they'd had it in weeks.

***

Shiro sat on the couch in the rec room, feet firmly on his feet.  The post-battle congratulations and ‘glad to have you backs’ had been cut short when Shiro stayed hovering on the edges of the group, clearly uncomfortable.  He accepted a quick hug from everyone but pulled away quickly, shoulders hunched in and hands trying to cover his bare arms.  

Which sucked.  It sucked for everyone.  Keith could see the way Shiro winced each time someone came near. He was on edge and wounded all over again, and this time he didn’t seem able to put on his best face.

Or maybe this time he felt comfortable enough not to.

Regardless, Keith’s stomach burned with a mixture of wanting to pull Shiro close and reassure himself that he was real, and get between him and the world and make sure no one touched him at all.

Shiro wasn’t performing anymore, not even for them.

Stepping over, Hunk offered him a blanket.  “You look chilled,” he told Shiro, voice gentle.  It was obviously code for ‘you’re still wearing that awful skimpy shirt and you have to hate it’.

Shiro took it gently and immediately wrapped it around himself, folding his legs in until all of him was covered.  “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Hunk replied.  He sat down on the far side of the couch, giving Shiro a full couple of feet between them.  At first, Shiro watched him carefully, like he didn’t trust him not to move back in.  Hurt flashed behind Hunk’s eyes but he stayed still, and Shiro quickly relaxed.

Swallowing hard, Shiro took a deep breath.  “I don’t know where to start,” he admitted.

“How about with what happened?” Pidge offered.  “Not- not specifics.  Unless you want to talk about it.  How you ended up there.”

Shiro’s tight shoulders relaxed slightly at the clarification.  “Oh.  Yes.  During the fight with Zarkon, he poured a lot of energy into the Black Lion.  It was an attack and a way to gain control back, I think, but it didn’t work.  Their bond is too frayed.  It did overcharge the lion, essentially.  Enough that it was hard to control.  It needed to go somewhere before it started to do harm.  And the wings were active.”  Shiro pause, considering.  “I don’t really know in depth how they work, but it’s very- it’s not that the Black Lion isn’t solid.  It’s that it’s there and not there.  There and somewhere else.  Usually another plane.  Very quantum.”

“Montgomery would have a field day,” Pidge muttered.

Pausing, Shiro barked out a laugh.  “True.  Oh, god, the questions I’d have to answer for her.”

“And you’d have to answer them all twice,” Hunk added, gentle but fond.

Shiro nodded and actually cracked a smile.  “At least.”

“Who?” Allura asked, head tilted.

Lance nodded to them.  “One of our instructors back on Earth.  Physics professor.”

Allura nodded back, though she didn’t look like that cleared anything up.  

“That’s where the energy ended up,” Shiro continued on, his smile slipping back away.  “In the wings.  But there was no intention.  No specific other ‘there.’  So all the energy built up and I was just... flung.”

Keith’s stomach dropped.  “You could have been anywhere.”

“I could have been in the astral plane, or, yeah, a lot of places,” Shiro agreed.  “I’m lucky I didn’t get shot into a black hole.”  His gaze hardened.  “Or maybe I’m not.”

“Shiro,” Coran protested, voice tight.  “Please.”

“Sorry,” he murmured back.  “The astral plane would have been better.  You would have found me eventually.  But instead I ended up- well, close enough for the Ring’s ships to pick up the sudden energy burst.  I’m sure they thought it was a some sort of enemy ship.  Instead they found me.  And recognized me.”  Shiro closed his eyes and shifted his grip on the blanket so he could run a hand through his now white hair.  “They spent a few days trying to bribe me or convince me.  Then a few more trying to scare me into fighting.  I mostly tried to find a time I could escape and contact someone, but they knew about the arm, so they knew how to get around it.  Then they found their solution.”  He pointed to the back of his neck.  “Can’t deny that it was effective.”

“And sick,” Lance muttered back.

Shiro’s gaze snapped to him, suddenly looking very tired.  “Yeah.  That too.”  He fell silent after, eyes slipping closed.

There were so many questions about that.  What had happened to him.  All those battles, all the things they’d made him do.  If they’d been willing to whore him out, what else might have happened?

But it wasn’t worth asking when it was so raw, and Shiro looked so tired.

“What about your hair?” Pidge asked.  “What happened?”

Shiro frowned.  “What about my- oh.  The white.  Right.”  He curled up tighter.  “I don’t know.  I don’t know when it happened.  I didn’t see until they started doing promotions.”  His voice cracked slightly on the word as he looked away from them.

Holding up a hand, Allura nodded to them.  “I think I can answer that one.  Exposure to large amounts of Quintessence can bleach.  White is all the colors, after all.”

Shiro’s brows came together.  “So Zarkon did this?”

“No, that wouldn’t have been enough,” Allura replied.  “But the chaotic, uncontrolled release of energy after?  Being sent across the universe with the Black Lion’s ability?  That would do it.”

Slowly, Shiro nodded.  “Oh.  Okay. I can live with that.”  His shoulders relaxed as he pulled the blanket tighter around himself.  “Yeah.  That’s fine.  All things considered.”

“You can dye it now if you want,” Lance offered, voice only half joking.  “It’ll probably take color really well.”

Shiro’s lips finally quirked up again.  “I can cycle through Voltron colors.”

Hunk leaned back in the hair.  “You’d look good with bright yellow hair.”

Snorting, Shiro shook his head, but his grin grew.  “No, I won’t.”

“Yeah, you really won’t,” Hunk agreed.  “But I want to see it.”

“Black would be interesting,” Lance admitted.  “It’d be a blast from the past.  A little boring after everything.”

“Maybe do all of them together instead,” Pidge offered.  “Like a clown wig.”

Snickering, Shiro pressed his face to his knees.  “No way.”

“Imagine if we find Matt while you look like that.”

_ “No.” _

Watching Shiro pick his head up, a healthy flush of color to his otherwise paled-out features, Keith swallowed hard.  “Are you alright?”

Shiro froze, and the room went suddenly quiet.

Leaning over, Lance elbowed Keith.  “C’mon, man, we were just getting somewhere.”

“No, it’s a fair question.”  Shiro paused, seeming to struggle with himself.  “No.  I’m not.  I’m  _ really _ not.”

It hurt to hear, but it was somehow a relief too.

At least he was admitting it.

“I can’t- I can’t.  There was something in my head.  And it’s gone, and maybe it won’t happen again, but I can’t...”  Shiro closed his eyes.  “I can’t have something else there.  Connecting with Black took too long, and I don’t... I need time.  That was a one time thing.”

Keith’s heart dropped as he realized what Shiro was saying.

Silence hung heavily for a long moment.  “You’re quitting?” Hunk asked, sounding as winded as if Shiro had punched him in the stomach.

“I-” The words made Shiro wince.  “I don’t-”

“Okay,” Keith interrupted, nodding.  “If that’s what you want.”

Pidge whirled, eyes wide.  “Keith?”

“You don’t have to commit to anything,” Keith continued, shrugging.  “If you don’t want to ever again, that’s your call.  If you just need a break for a couple of days, that’s fine too.  No strings attached, no expectations.”

There was a pause, then Lance nodded.  He elbowed Keith again, this time gentler.  More friendly.  “Yeah.  You rest up, Shiro.  Hang out for a while.  We’ve got this.”  He glanced at Keith, considering, then nodded.  “We figured it out, I think.  You do what’s right for you.”

Shiro’s expression slackened with relief.  “What about Voltron?” He asked, voice small.

“We’ll figured it out,” Allura replied, nodding to Lance.  “Even if it means switching some things up.  We can make it work.”  Her expression softened as she took in Shiro, small and folded tight in a blanket on the couch.  “And of course you’re welcome to stay here.  We’d be happy to have you on board in whatever capacity, if any, you feel up to.”

Closing his eyes, Shiro nodded.  When he pulled on the blanket again, it brushed up the back of his head, hanging over like a hood.  “Okay.  Thank you.”  His eyes screwed tightly shut and he swallowed hard.  

“Anything you need,” Pidge told him, her voice tight.

Picking his head up, Shiro looked between them all.  Then he untangled one arm from his blankets and held it out for a hug.

Immediately, Pidge launched herself at him, pulling him against her.  For a moment he tensed, but then relaxed into it, eyes closed comfortably.

“Is this a private party?” Hunk asked, serious despite the joking wording.

“No,” Shiro replied, though he didn’t pick his head up from Pidge’s shoulder.

He didn’t need to, because Hunk wrapped his arms around them both, pulling them against his chest.  A moment later, Lance hopped up to join them, settling on Shiro’s other side.  He seemed to melt between them, finally relaxing the rest of the way.

Lance looked over, holding out his own arm.  “Hey, what do you think you’re doing over there?”

“Standing,” Keith replied, because he knew the literal answer would draw a scowl from Lance.  But before he could return fire, he got up and moved into the hug as well.

Between all of them, Shiro seemed smaller.  It was hard to tell if he was thinner, but he gave the impression of it, like he was managing to take up less space through sheer force of will.

Or maybe Keith had imaged him bigger lately.  Maybe they’d all built Shiro up in their heads.

The man shivering between them had been their leader, yes, and he’d worked hard to give the impression of someone they could rely on.  But in his absence, that had grown into an idea, an impossible ghost that they were all supposed to match.

That wasn’t fair to themselves, and it wasn’t fair to Shiro.

Shiro was human, and he was hurt.  Keith used to know that better than anyone, but he’d let his expectations and worries get the best of him.

Not anymore.

Keith was going to try and work with the team, but he wasn’t going to be the kind of leader Shiro was.  He could fly the Black Lion, but Keith still felt like he was the Red Paladin in his heart, and he didn’t want to break that just to fit a mythical idea.

Keith was going to do this his own way.

Clearing his throat, Coran stepped forward.  “Shiro, I would feel more comfortable if we got you to a pod.”

“Right,” Shiro sighed, nodding.  He squirmed until they backed off, then stood, the blanket still draped over his shoulders and head.  “Will you all be okay?”

“You heal,” Lance said.  “We’ve got this.”

“We do,” Pidge agreed, offering Shiro a smile.

Glancing between them all, Shiro nodded.  “Okay.”  With that he turned and followed Coran out, a hint of a nervous hunch returning to his shoulders as he went.

Well, that was Shiro’s journey.  He had a lot to deal with, and they were going to give him the time and space to do that.  It was what he deserved.

In the meantime..

“Alright,” Keith said, standing back up and rolling his shoulders.  “Let’s clean up and get to work.”


End file.
